


Share and Share Alike

by The_Lady_Crane



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Drama, Dramedy, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, Explicit Language, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, It's just romantic mix ups and cliches and shit I felt like writing, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Male Slash, Probably ooc, Rating May Change, Rivalry, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, Soren has draconic traits, Spoilers, The younger Ike is Isaac because I love that name for him, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22048480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: Soren is finally summoned to Askr, and Ike couldn't be happier... until he learns that his older self is in a relationship with the mage.The younger Ike is confused, Soren is angsting, and the older Ike is just done with this bullsh*t.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren, Lilina/Roy (Fire Emblem), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Reyson/Tibarn (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 59





	1. Isaac and the World-Shattering Kiss of Doom

**Author's Note:**

> There have been a few other fics that explore the multiple Ikes thing, and I adore them ("The Misplaced Sex Hex" and "Off Tempo" are my personal favorites, but the others are also excellent). I wanted to try my hand at it. It's been some time since I did a romantic comedy like this, so I hope I don't butcher it. I actually finished this some time ago, and have now gotten up the courage to post it.
> 
> Oh, and Ike is short for Isaac. You can't convince me otherwise. I first encountered this alternate name in "The Trials of Ike", and have since read several other fics from different authors where Ike's full name is Isaac. I don't know why, but I LOVE this name for him. I have no idea who started it, but thank you, whoever you are!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This starts out with a lot more drama than I intended. We'll just see how it goes, eh?

Ike could honestly say that he had visited some strange places, but none were as strange as Askr. Specifically, none were as strange as Castle Gloria, located in Askr’s capitol city. This bustling fortress was as ostentatious as one would expect, and it was filled with heroes from so many different worlds that Ike had a hard time keeping up. The different accents, styles of dress, foods, and customs were too much for him to wrap his head around.

And then he had met himself.

Or rather, he had met himself from another point in time. That was how the Summoner, Serpi, had explained it to him when he’d first arrived to find himself face-to-face with a man who looked far too like him for it to be coincidental. “He’s you from the future,” the Summoner had said, and Ike saw no reason to doubt it. The only thing he’d protested at first was the change of name. As he was the younger one, he’d had to take on the moniker “Isaac” to avoid confusion. Serpi seemed to think that it fit him, and soon he grew used to it. Slowly, he even got used to bumping into himself in the hallways or at meetings. It was bizarre, but he felt a kind of silent awe for the man he would become (though he was loath to admit that the older Ike intimidated him just a bit).

Besides his own, there were all sorts of familiar faces here – Mist, Titania, Oscar… And over time, he had been trained in new weapon styles. He had been given an outfit resembling his father’s, as well as his father’s axe Urvan; the following year, he’d been dressed up in a flashy new outfit. That occasion was one to remember, because he had been reunited with his father once more. Throughout his stay, though, one familiar face eluded him: Soren, his best friend and constant companion. He had asked his older self on the day of his arrival, only to be told that Soren hadn’t yet been summoned. And so, he took to attending every summoning session in the hopes of being reunited with the mage.

When pressed for details of Soren’s whereabouts in the future, Ike was strangely reticent (or, not so strangely, when Isaac really thought about it). Isaac tried not to pester himself with too many questions, but one day, as the two of them walked with the others to the summoning grounds, he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“Do you think it’ll work this time?” he asked, trudging along at a slightly quickened pace to keep up with his taller self. His yellow cloak billowed behind him, held back by Urvan’s weight against his back.

“Who knows?” Ike responded, his determined stare never leaving the ruins in the distance. “If not, we’ll just keep coming back.”

Isaac’s frown deepened as he thought about what to say next. He wanted to tread delicately, but it was too tempting to ask outright. “I take it that you’re still friends with Soren in the future.” Ike’s only answer to that was a grunt, so Isaac pressed on. “Did something bad happen to him?”

The older mercenary paused at this, slowing his walk just a bit and giving Isaac an unreadable glance. “Why would you think that?”

“You just seem really determined to see him again. I thought maybe something happened to him in your time.”

Ike turned back to the ruins. “Aren’t you eager to see him, too?”

“Well, yeah. Of course.” Isaac glanced up at his older self. “It’s just…”

“How close are you and Soren in your time?” Ike asked suddenly, taking Isaac off guard.

“Huh? Well, he’s my most important ally. Always has been.” The heavy tread of their boots became louder as their feet found the flagstone pathway leading to the ruins. They were almost there; Isaac could see Serpi’s purple and gold coat blowing in the wind, partly concealed by a small crowd of spectators. “He’s also my closest friend. I guess you could say that we’re inseparable.” He noticed that the grim line of Ike’s mouth grew stiffer, his jaw clenching just slightly. “You knew that already, right?”

“Serpi says the timelines sometimes differ from each other,” Ike said. “I wasn’t sure how close you and Soren were, but it sounds similar to how we were when I was your age.”

Isaac gave a little snort at “when I was your age.” His older self was starting to sound like their father.

They came to a stop at the edge of the crowd, giving cordial nods to those who greeted them. It was a fine day for a summoning ritual, with nary a cloud in sight and a gentle breeze counteracting the warm sunshine with a slight cooling effect. Serpi was chatting with Alfonse and Sharena at the base of the pillar, and Isaac had to resist the urge to shout for them to get on with it. Ike was staring intently at the pillar, his eyes lingering on the divots where the colored orbs would soon appear.

“Alright, we’re hoping for Eldigan!” Serpi said, her voice carrying over the little crowd. “Wish me luck, everyone!”

“I hope you get a dozen more of Raigh,” Niles said with a snickering laugh.

“If you jinx me, you’re on stable duty for a month,” Serpi said vehemently. Isaac bit his tongue to keep from urging the summoner on.

As Serpi poured the marble-like orbs into the base of the pillar, it glowed with an unearthly light. The five divots, forming the points of a star, grew brighter and then filled out with large gems – two red, three colorless, and one green. Serpi pointed her weapon at the first red orb, and a beam of light shot towards it. A second later, the green-haired mage was standing there, looking none too pleased.

“Dammit, Niles!” Serpi shouted, shoving the new Raigh aside as Niles howled with laughter. Again, the weapon was raised, this time at the new Raigh. He disappeared in a flash of light, merged into the existing Raigh or sent back to his world, Isaac didn’t know. Serpi cleared her throat, pointed at the second red orb, and summoned a man with flaming red hair and a familiar face. “Damn. Well, not so bad, I suppose. Welcome to Askr! I’m Serpi, the Summoner around here. And you are…?”

“My name is Eliwood,” the man said. “I’m a noble from a small realm known as Pherae. I hope I’ll be of use to you.”

“Well, Roy will be happy to see you,” Serpi said, smiling at Eliwood’s resulting exclamation of shock.

For a moment, Isaac was afraid that Serpi would end the session right there. But she glanced in his direction and, with a knowing wink, pointed her weapon at the green orb. “Here’s hoping,” she said, and pulled the trigger.

With Eliwood now standing ahead of the crowd, Isaac could no longer see the spot where the new hero appeared. “Welcome to Askr!” Serpi said to them. “I’m Serpi, the Summoner. And you would be…?”

She was cut off by a voice that was low, soft, but perfectly clear. Isaac’s heart skipped a beat when he heard it. “Hmm. My name? I am the mage Soren. Now, I have a question for you – Is Ike here?”

“Why, yes, he is! Both of him. Ike! Oh, Iiiiiiike! Isaaaaac!”

Isaac found himself walking through the crowd without really seeing anyone else. His chest felt oddly light when he finally laid eyes on the black-clad figure, who was standing there as if being summoned hadn’t disrupted his day at all. Soren’s unflappable exterior cracked when he saw Isaac, though. Red eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly. Isaac grinned. It was so good to see him again, so good to hear his voice. The young mercenary stepped forward…

And was promptly brushed aside as the older Ike pushed past him, crossed over to an awestruck Soren, and swept him into an embrace that quickly led to a searing kiss.

It took a moment for Isaac to realize that it was really happening. His older self was kissing Soren. He was holding the little mage up on his tiptoes, his arms locked around the smaller man’s back, and honest-to-Goddess open-mouth kissing him. Isaac’s jaw dropped, but his shock was nothing compared to Soren’s. Even when Ike pulled back, heedless of the catcalls and surprised murmuring behind him, Soren was staring with wide eyes and frozen posture.

Ike cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he muttered, stepping back and looking down at his boots. “It’s good to see you, Soren.”

“Hehe, quite,” Serpi tittered.

“Oh, go on, then. Show him how much you missed him!” Niles called from the crowd.

“Ike, I…” Soren glanced rapidly between the two Ikes, his cheeks bright pink. “Wha- How is-?” He coughed suddenly, regaining some of his composure. “I, ah… Ike, would you mind explaining just what in the world is going on here?”

“I can do that,” Serpi said, patting the mage’s shoulder and earning a glare in return. “Come along, Soren, Eliwood, I’ll tell you all about Askr. Ike, Isaac, you can meet up with Soren later, OK?”

Isaac watched as Soren was led away, and the crowd began to disperse, a few still giving Ike sly glances and approving winks.

Then he turned to glare at his older self. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he felt the urge to punch the man. Ike stared after Soren and the summoner, and then began the walk down the stone steps. “What was that about?” Isaac said, spurred into action by the sight of Ike’s retreating back. When the older man didn’t respond, Isaac hurried to catch up with him. “Why did you do that? Was that some kind of joke?”

He regretted the words immediately. Ike spun around to face him, his eyes blazing with blue fire. “Joke?”

Isaac didn’t back down, but he thought carefully before speaking again. “You, uh… You kissed him.” He felt stupid the moment he’d spoken. There was no reason for Ike not to have known what he was doing. This was him, after all; they were almost the same person. But seeing Soren like that, in the older man’s arms, had triggered something in Isaac. He felt angry, and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

To his surprise, though, Ike was the one who looked away first. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, resuming his trek back to the castle. Isaac followed at a sedate pace, now more confused than angry. “I just… I missed him. A lot.”

The anger was still there, but Isaac couldn’t help but feel sorry for his other self. “You two… In the future, do we…?”

Ike fixed him with a peculiar stare as they reached the garden gate. Pulling open the wrought iron door, he said, “What do you think?”

The gate slammed shut, but Isaac was too stunned to catch it. Ike strode into the garden without looking back, leaving his younger self alone with his confusion.

>>><<<

Ike wasn’t too prideful to own up to his mistakes. As soon as Serpi was done explaining the war, the castle, the summoning and everything else that went along with it, Ike was waiting outside of the conference room for Soren to emerge. The mage’s face grew red when he spotted Ike standing in the hallway, but he came over immediately to greet him.

“Hey, Soren,” Ike said, his own cheeks heating up.

“Serpi told me about the timeline differences.” Soren spared a brief glance at the Summoner’s retreating back. “This truly is an amazing place.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“About earlier…”

Leave it to Soren to get down to business. “I’m sorry,” Ike said, cutting him off. “I wasn’t thinking. In my timeline, you and I are… involved.” Soren was looking at him intently. Under that penetrating stare, Ike began to feel once more like an awkward teenager. “I have no idea what we are in your world,” he continued. “I forgot, for a second.”

The mage stepped closer before Ike could say any more. Leaning up on his toes, he was able to give Ike a peck on the lips before he brought his hands up to cup Ike’s face, pulling him down for something more. Ike groaned, his eyelids sliding shut as he played back, allowing their tongues to slide together. Suddenly, he was eighteen again, standing under the newly-restored arches of Melior’s royal gardens, receiving his very first kiss from the one who had always been by his side. This Soren wasn’t experienced, and his motions were careful and guarded; but Ike had more than enough experience for the two of them now. He knew exactly how to move, how to hold the little mage, how to press on that spot behind his ear that made his knees buckle.

“I never…” Soren gasped as they pulled apart. “I never thought you would…” Ike didn’t give him the chance to continue that thought. He dove again, taking them deeper, reversing their positions so he could push Soren against the wall. Soren moaned into the kiss, his trembling arms wrapping around Ike’s neck.

“Mmmn, wait…!” Soren’s voice was almost a whimper. Ike kissed him again and again, pushing harder and demanding more each time. It felt so good and so right. Ike had missed this so much. His skin had tingled from lack of contact, and now it burned for want of it. His hands found Soren’s waist, and he lifted him up, pressing him into the wall, his mouth roving down to Soren’s throat as he sought to relieve the ache deep in his chest.

“I- Ike, wait a moment!” A harsh tug on Ike’s hair made him growl, but he stopped, panting hard against Soren’s neck. He could feel an encouraging hardness growing against his stomach. “Just wait…” Soren panted, seemingly getting his bearings. “P- put me down. Please.”

Reluctantly, Ike obeyed; but he didn’t pull back entirely. They remained locked in an embrace, Soren supported between the wall and Ike’s solid chest. “Sorry,” he said, breathing deeply of Soren’s scent – parchment and ink and the faint scent of the wind. The mage was solid in his arms, breathing and alive and so much more satisfying than the doppelgangers who had visited him in his dreams.

“No, I…” Soren buried his face in Ike’s chest. “I’m happy. I always wanted to tell you…”

He really was from a different point in time. Ike wondered just how big the difference was. “We didn’t defeat Ashnard yet in your time, did we?”

“No.”

“It was after the war,” Ike said. “I told you how I felt, in the garden, after Elincia was crowned queen.”

Soren swallowed, and shook his head. “I thought you would… prefer her.”

“Heh, yeah. You thought the same thing in my time, too.” Ike kissed the top of Soren’s head. “I think you’re smart enough to figure out who I chose, though.”

“And you know about me?”

“What, being Branded? I told you, I don’t give two figs who your parents were. Hell, I don’t give two fucks.”

That seemed to shock Soren enough to make him meet Ike’s gaze, and when he did, he broke into rare laughter. “I see your vocabulary grew with your height.”

“Spend enough time with Shinon, and that’s bound to happen.”

Soren’s laughter died down. “So, he didn’t desert us in your world?”

“Oh, he did. But we got him back.”

“Some prize,” Soren snorted. His expression softened, and he pulled back, prompting Ike to step back and give him more room. “Ike, I wanted to know about the other you. Isaac. What time is he from?”

“Sometime similar to yours, it sounds like,” Ike said.

Soren’s gaze settled somewhere on Ike’s chest, and he crossed his arms. “You’re saying that in your time, you and I are involved in a romantic relationship. What about Isaac?”

“I don’t think so,” Ike said. “He told me you’re good friends, but he didn’t say anything else.”

“I see.”

Ike was beginning to see, too. He hadn’t stopped to think about his other self. All he had cared about was whether Soren reciprocated his feelings. With another Ike involved, though, things were bound to get complicated. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

A look of anguish crossed Soren’s features. “Are you asking me to confess to him? I’m fairly certain that he knows by now, thanks to your poor impulse control. If he didn’t say anything… But, shouldn’t that be fine? If you’re here, then…” He chewed on his lower lip anxiously.

“Hey. Look at me.” Ike’s voice was instantly soothing, and Soren looked into his eyes with a kind of desperate hope that tugged at Ike’s heart. He put a hand on Soren’s shoulder. “The only thing I know is that I love you.” His face grew hotter at this admission. Even back in his own world, after being with Soren for years, he had rarely said those words. “I don’t care if he’s involved or not.”

“Are you saying you want…” Soren frowned. “You’re implying a threesome?” His eyes narrowed. “Have you been talking to Ranulf?”

“I don’t know what a… what that is, and Ranulf isn’t here. But I really don’t mind if you want to talk to him about it. Why would I be jealous of myself? It’s me.”

The mage seemed to struggle with this for a moment. “I need to think,” he said at last. “It’s a lot to process at once.”

“I’ll show you to…” Ike trailed off as he noticed Isaac coming down the hallway. “No, we’ll show you to the barracks.”

Soren looked up, as well. “Ike- No, Isaac. I’ve been briefed on the details. And I can find the barracks myself. If you’ll excuse me.”

Isaac watched Soren go with a sinking heart. Then he whipped around to glare at his older self. “What did you say to him?”

“He’s just thinking,” Ike said calmly. “He needs to be alone now.”

Isaac ran a hand through his hair. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”

“You could say that.” Ike leaned his back against the wall. “I don’t think he knows what to do with both of us here. I don’t, either. I mean, it’s not like you’re my rival. You’re me.”

“Easy for you to say,” Isaac said glumly. “You’ve been in my shoes, but I don’t know what it’s like to be you.” That thought made him sick with frustration. His older self was so much… better. He was taller, stronger, more confident. And apparently, he had managed to express his feelings for Soren in ways that Isaac could only dream of.

“Well, it’s about time for lunch.” To Isaac’s shock, Ike turned and began walking down the hallway, towards the dining room.

“Are you seriously going to go eat, when we have to figure out all of this?” The irony didn’t escape him; Isaac could recall at least a dozen times when similar words had been said to him.

Ike didn’t look back. “I’m not the one who has to figure things out. I already know where I stand.” And, rounding the corner, he was gone, leaving Isaac to stew in confusion and frustration for the second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a brief explanation, in case anyone was confused: In my version of Askr, there is usually only one copy per hero. In this version, there can be multiple copies as long as they are different ages (or possessed, in the cases of Berkut and Robin). There are only two separate Ikes in this story. The younger Ike has multiple costume changes and weapons, rather than his alts being separate people. It's just so much simpler this way. And let's be honest, Soren faced with four Ikes? He would die of pure joy.


	2. Soren's Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, a second chapter! An actual second chapter! I didn't think I would have the discipline to write this. Wonders never cease, huh?

Tacticians enjoyed a few extra privileges in Castle Gloria, and one of them was a room of their own. Soon after leaving Ike and Isaac, Soren had been hailed by a woman with sea-green hair who introduced herself as Cecilia, one of the tacticians. “Serpi has informed me that you will soon join us in the war room,” she had said. “Allow me to show you to our quarters.”

The tactician’s room was well equipped; Soren was impressed and pleased to find that each bunk had its own little alcove with a curtain hanging over it. There were ten in total, stacked like double bunk beds, with seven appearing to be occupied. The shelves inside the alcoves held pictures, knickknacks, and a quantity of books that had Soren itching to visit the library that Serpi had mentioned. “You can choose whichever bed you like,” Cecilia said. Soren immediately went to the set of bunks near the back of the room, which didn’t appear to have an occupant in either bed. He turned the purple blanket down, and Cecilia said, “For now, we’ll simply put your name here…” She waved her forefinger, and Soren’s name appeared in scrawled gold letters across the curtain.

It was impressive, for tome-less magic. Soren didn’t say so, but he felt that he would learn a lot here. He had seen some very powerful spellbooks among the other tacticians’ belongings. He nodded politely as Cecilia bid him farewell, and then studied the names on the other curtains. Robin and Rob were stacked one on top of the other, and Cecilia’s cot was above that of someone named Saias. Innes and Byleth held the ones next to Soren’s, and Kempf had a bunk to himself at the other side of the room. Soren had never heard of any of these people, and he wasn’t looking forward to meeting them; still, it was better than the open-bunk barracks that housed most of the other heroes.

Not knowing what else to do, he climbed up the ladder and crawled into his bunk. There were windows along the opposite wall, but when he pulled the curtain, he was left in soothing darkness that allowed his mind to settle a bit.

The question of being transported to a totally different world was almost secondary in Soren’s mind. He didn’t care where he was, as long as he was by Ike’s side. The trouble was that there were now two Ikes, and he wasn’t sure which one to follow. Deep down, he had to admit that he couldn’t choose between them. But how could he feel such loyalty to two people, even if they were the same person?

No, he decided. That would be his first observation, the first decision to make – they were not the same person. They had lived the same life, until the point where Ike had continued living and Isaac had been summoned here. Perhaps there were only subtle differences during their first seventeen years, but after that, Ike had gone on to fight a totally different war. He had grown (and _how_ he had grown, Soren thought as his face burned). That meant that Ike was someone whom Soren would have to get to know again. He was familiar, but he had changed so much that Soren felt almost alienated from him.

Isaac, on the other hand, was different in name only. He was the Ike that Soren had known, the Ike with whom he’d been marching just moments before he had been summoned here. He wasn’t worried about his commander; Serpi had explained that summoning produced copies of each of them, and that Soren was still back in Tellius at this very moment, unaware of anything going on here. That was something that Soren could at least understand. He’d read theories about different worlds and universes, about how time might be diverged and split and duplicated. It was easy to accept.

He was a copy of himself, living in a different world alongside a copy of Ike and a copy of an Ike from some future timeline. That was the easy part (and Soren flattered himself that it might have taken more time for someone else to wrap their head around it). The main problem was that now, Soren wasn’t sure how things would be with Isaac. What did you say to your best and only friend after he had witnessed himself kissing you? After knowing that, at least in Ike’s timeline, he and Soren would become intimate with one another on a whole new level? Soren groaned, and rolled over onto his side. Now _that_ was a problem fit to make his head spin.

The door opened, and someone walked in. Soren tensed, evening his breaths so he wouldn’t be heard. “Oh, look,” a male voice said. “He’s already set up.”

“Do you think he’s in there?” a female voice asked, then spoke a bit louder. “Soren? My name’s Robin, and this is, uh, Rob.”

“I still can’t get used to that…”

“Are you in there?”

Soren didn’t respond. There was a moment of silence, and then Rob said, in a hushed voice, “I guess he’s sleeping.”

“Probably, or he’s out.” Another moment of silence, except for the shuffling of feet on carpet and the sound of books being stacked on top of each other. “I hope he’s not anything like Kempf.”

“He seemed pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean he’s not an arse.”

“Robin, shhh!”

“I’m just saying…”

More shuffling, and then Rob said, “Did you hear what happened at the summoning?”

“I did, and I don’t believe a word of it. You know how trustworthy Niles is.”

“I saw Ike afterwards. He seemed fairly abashed.”

“Oh, come off it, Rob. Do you really think that _Ike_ , of all people, would kiss _anyone_? Let alone someone who was just summoned here.”

“You tackled Chrom the moment he appeared.”

“Hush, you!”

“And I admit to being very… happy to see him. My point is, we don’t know what their relationship is like.”

“That’s true…”

Their footsteps and voices moved across the room again. By now, Soren was fighting back the urge to throw the curtain open and chastise them for gossiping. He gripped the sheets in his hands, furious. “Did you remember the almanac?”

“I have it right here…” The chatter faded, and Soren sat up, staring at his hands in his lap.

Robin and Rob… Serpi had mentioned them, citing them as an example of the differences in some timelines. They were the same person, but different genders, from different worlds. And they apparently both had a thing for the one named Chrom (Soren hadn’t missed the flustered tone in Rob’s voice when he’d mentioned their reunion). If they made it work somehow, then perhaps…

He let out a frustrated sigh and flopped back onto his side, rolling himself in the blankets. It was just _too_ _much_.

>>><<<

Isaac didn’t know what to do, but he did know that he was still very happy to be reunited with Soren. He had given the mage space, at first, but soon the desire to speak with him overwhelmed him. He made his way to the tactician’s rooms after lunch, carrying a plate that would hopefully entice Soren from wherever he had holed up.

Saias was sitting on one of the armchairs just outside the bedroom, reading. He didn’t look up as Isaac passed by, but the young fighter could feel his gaze. Inside, it took Isaac a moment to locate Soren’s bunk (helpfully spelled out for him, and the only curtain that was currently closed). “Soren?” he called, stepping closer.

“Ik- Isaac.” Soren pulled the curtain open, just a bit. Isaac could see that he had hidden himself in the blankets. He chuckled at the sight.

“I brought you something to eat.”

“… Thank you.” The curtain slid open, and Soren climbed down to accept the plate. “Hm. A sandwich?”

“You like sandwiches.”

Soren held the plate close, not inclined to eat while he was being watched. Isaac said, “There’s a nice place outside, just a little past the gardens. It’s pretty secluded…”

That was all Soren needed to hear. He followed Isaac through the castle, out into the garden, and then through a winding path. This led them to a small gate that opened onto a grassy hillside ringed with trees. In the distance, wyverns flocked around a tall stone tower while horses and pegasi galloped and fluttered in the fields below. “They’re exercising the mounts,” Isaac explained as Soren paused to watch. “We have a lot of them here.”

“Hmm.” Soren pulled his gaze away and continued with Isaac around the hill. Soon they came to a marble terrace. There were other heroes milling about here, and Soren wanted to point that out, but they bypassed the area entirely. Isaac led him further down, near a culvert jutting out of the hillside, and finally stopped beneath the arched structure that supported the large stone pipe.

“Look,” Isaac said, and Soren saw that they were at a perfect vantage point. The hillside continued to slope gently away from them, until it terminated in a sheer drop that was fenced off by a stone wall. The misty land beyond stretched before them, clear and bright in the midday sunshine. Mountains rose in the distance like ominous clouds. Soren had never seen anything like it before; he only realized how awestruck he was when he caught Isaac staring at him with a slight smirk on his face. Soren’s expression closed off then, and he sat down on a flat stone, hunching over his sandwich as Isaac stood beside him.

“So, the castle is on top of a cliff?” Soren asked, as a matter of curiosity and as a way to break the tension.

“Yeah, mostly. There’s flat land on one side; that’s where the town is.” Isaac leaned against the large stone pipe, his arms crossed.

Soren always ate as quickly as he could, but he relaxed a little around Isaac. There was also the matter of time. If he took his time in eating, then they could avoid the elephant in the room for a bit longer. He took small bites, breathing in the fresh, crisp air when he paused between each one. It didn’t do anything to ease his nerves, but it felt good in his chest. The air was clear here, free of the stench of war, despite the recent troubles in Askr.

Isaac shifted beside him, and Soren could tell that he was nervous, too. The mage braced himself, knowing that Isaac wouldn’t remain silent for long. Sure enough, as Soren picked at the last few crumbs on his plate, Isaac said, “So, about earlier…”

“What about it?”

Soren was guarded, and Isaac wasn’t used to that. Already, it felt as if they were farther apart than they had been before being summoned here. “He never told me about… us. Him and you, I guess.”

“Didn’t he?”

“No.” Another pause filled with the singing of birds and the distant chatter of people and the burbling water running through the pipe. “Did he tell you?”

“Yes.” Soren’s fingers tightened on his sleeves.

“Will you tell me?”

“… I suppose I should.”

“You don’t have to,” Isaac said quickly, but Soren shook his head.

“I was brought here just as we were marching on Melior.”

“So was I.” Isaac’s expression was grim. “So, in your world, are we…?”

“No,” Soren said almost too forcefully, and then, much more softly, “No, we… It seems as if you and I are from the same timeline.”

“Oh, good.” Isaac dropped to the ground, leaning back on his palms as he stared up at the sky. “So, you were just as confused as I was!”

“You could say that.”

The commander’s smile fell when he saw the tension in Soren’s posture. “Is something wrong?”

Soren took a deep breath, and then finally looked at him. His expression was set, as if he’d come to a decision. “You are the only Ike that I know,” he said. “But I…” He faltered for a moment before his determination returned. “I admit that I was relieved to hear what happens in our future. At least, in his future. But I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t want this to ruin…”

“Ruin what?”

He looked away, unable to hold Isaac’s gaze, his resolve crumbling bit by bit. “I couldn’t bear it if you… if you hated me.”

Isaac’s frown deepened. “I could never hate you. Just tell me what happened.”

Why was it so difficult to say? “Ik- Isaac, we…” A snarl left Soren’s lips then, and he stood up, agitated. 

“What's wrong?” Isaac stood up as well and reached out to take Soren by the shoulders. “Soren, stop it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ike…” Soren’s eyes were wide and uncertain. It made Isaac’s heart ache to see him like this.

“Whatever he said to you, just tell me, OK? We can talk about it.”

Soren chewed on his thumbnail. “… No,” he said at last, straightening up and steeling himself. “I can’t tell you. It doesn’t matter, in any case – his future is not necessarily ours.”

“But you know. How is that fair?” Isaac felt as if there was a gulf opening up between them, moving them farther apart. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Life isn’t fair, Ik- Isaac.” Soren brushed him off. “Whatever happened, it’s not going to happen to us. Now that we’re here, we can’t continue on as we would have. Even if we go back.” The mage turned away, gathering himself up. “You are my friend, Isaac. Just as you always have been. And Ike…”

Isaac didn’t miss the faint blush that colored Soren’s cheeks. He didn’t like it one bit. “I think he’s, uh… With his Soren, he’s…” The young commander grimaced, unable to articulate the thought.

“… I have to go.” Soren was walking up the hill before Isaac realized it.

The sight of Soren’s retreating back filled Isaac with an unknown emotion – something like rage, or despair, or desperation. He almost went after the mage. He wanted to; his body was poised as if to spring into a run, Soren’s name caught in his throat. But he couldn’t rationalize that action. He couldn’t figure out why he wanted to. Something had changed between them, something had broken, but he didn’t know what it was.

Instead of chasing after Soren, Isaac let out a growl and swung his fist into the side of the culvert. It hurt, and the pain was like a bucket of water to the face. He shook himself, feeling like he was coming back to his senses. “Damn!” He dropped onto the rock that Soren had just vacated, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared glumly out at the scenery.

>>><<<

“Ike…”

The vanguard turned when he heard his name called, knowing immediately who it was despite the whispered tone of the voice. He stuck the training sword point-downward into the dirt and went to meet Soren at the wall surrounding the training yard. “Hey, what gives?” Roy whined, his own sword raised to block a strike that wouldn’t come. Ike ignored him.

Soren’s eyes were shining, possibly with unshed tears. Ike reached him and stood as close as he dared, waiting, staring into those eyes as if he could convey his hope through that look alone. The uncertainty in Soren’s face gave way to a tentative kind of joy, and then, hesitantly, he reached out his hand.

As always, they didn’t need words. Ike understood the gesture, and his heart swelled as he felt a smile break out on his face. Ignoring Soren’s startled gasp, Ike pulled the little mage into his arms, lifting him up with full intent to carry him off – a move they called “bridal-style”, which to Ike seemed fitting enough.

He promptly dropped to one knee when Soren grabbed his ear.

“You don’t get to do that in public!” Soren chastised him, and Ike had to laugh at that. It was so good to be scolded again (a thought that was, admittedly, a little skewed; but Ike couldn’t care less).

“OK, OK.” He stood as Soren scrambled to his own feet, brushing off his robes self-consciously. “How about we go somewhere private, then?”

“Do you know where?”

“There’s a place down the hill, just past the gardens…”

“Somewhere else,” Soren said quickly.

Ike shrugged, took Soren’s hand, and led him through the gate. 


	3. War Were Declared

Isaac wanted Soren.

That much became apparent to him soon after walking into the dining hall the next morning. It was early enough that the long tables were still plenty crowded, so Isaac took a plate and walked outside into the pale sunshine. There were a few other heroes seated on the stone railing that separated the patio from the gardens. It was pleasant, sitting in the warm sunlight as a cool and fragrant breeze blew past. Many of the others greeted him, but didn’t crowd him; and for that, Isaac was grateful. He was enjoying his meal in peace.

Then he saw two people sitting beneath a tree, just down the slope.

He wouldn’t have paid much attention, except that one of those people was Soren. The mage was turned away, but Isaac didn’t know anyone else who wore so much black. He was a shadow in the sunshine, leaning against…

Isaac’s vision went red for a moment. Soren was leaning against the older Ike, who was mostly obscured by the tree trunk.

“Hey, Ike, are you OK?” He looked up to see Mist coming over to join him. She sat beside him, smoothing out her skirt (she was wearing the outfit that had been made for the Day of Devotion festival, which wasn’t too surprising, even though the day had long passed).

“Yeah.” He turned back to the couple under the tree, his expression glum.

“No, you’re not.” Mist poked him in the cheek, and Isaac flinched, grunting irritably. “You look like someone stole all your bacon. What’s the matter?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, but Mist knew better than to think she had been snubbed. She waited, picking lint off of her dress, until Isaac was ready to speak. “Do you think my older self is better?”

“Better at what?”

“I don’t know… Just better. All around.”

“Well, he’s a little neater.” She flicked a ball of lint at him. “And taller. But so, what? You’re still tall for your age.”

Isaac glowered as Ike pulled Soren closer, and Soren leaned in, disappearing behind the tree.

“Ike, come on.” Mist sighed. “He may be bigger and stronger, but he’s still you. You’ll be like that someday, you know? And I like you just fine the way you are!” When he gave a noncommittal grunt, her eyes narrowed. “Just what has gotten into you? You never used to be this insecure.”

“I bet they’ve…” Isaac cut himself off abruptly, having not meant to speak.

“Who?” Mist followed his line of sight, and her eyes widened. “Is that Soren? Who’s he wi- Oh. OH!” She gaped at her brother. “You’re jealous of him!”

“Huh?” He finally snapped to attention. “I am not!”

“Yes, you are! You want to be the one with Soren, don’t you? Oh, I knew it!”

“Y- you did?”

“It’s kinda obvious, Ike.” She crinkled her nose at him, and then adopted a thoughtful expression. “Hm… But you both love him, don’t you? That’s a problem.”

Isaac had also become pensive. “Do I?”

“Ike. Really.” She gave him an incredulous look.

“What?”

“How can you not know if you’re in love?”

“I don’t know. What’s it supposed to be like? How would I know that?”

Mist sighed wistfully, thinking of the novels she had read in Castle Gloria’s library. Princess Sharena had a certain fondness for romance stories, and the library was well supplied with them. “Oh, Ike… Don’t you want to be with him all the time?”

“Well, yeah.” Isaac frowned, confused.

“Do you want to hold his hand, and kiss him, and hug him?”

He looked away, his ears turning scarlet. “I, uh…” He couldn’t answer that out loud. Now that Mist had brought it up, the thought was appealing. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of his older self and Soren locked in that passionate kiss – and he couldn’t help wishing that it had been him instead of the other Ike.

“Mmmmmhm!” Mist nodded sagely. “Does the thought of him being with the other Ike make you mad?”

“Yeah.” That one required no thought at all. It made his blood boil to see them together.

“Well, then…” Mist raised an eyebrow.

“You really think I’m in love with Soren? Like our parents were in love?”

“I think if Dad were- Oh, what AM I saying?!” Mist slapped herself on the forehead, and then stood up in a whirl of ruffles. “Come on, Ike! Let’s go talk to him about it!”

“Huh? I’m not going to talk to Dad about this!”

“Why not? Wouldn’t he be the best person to ask?”

“No way!” Isaac stood up, allowing his plate to clatter on the floor. “Damn…”

“Well, if you won’t talk to Dad, then at least talk to someone,” Mist said. “Hey, Peri, we need a broom over here, please!”

“Oh, did the plate go crashy-smashy?”

Isaac shuddered as Peri came bounding over to them, broom in hand. She was an excellent cook, but she was nutty as they came. “Here, I’ll…” He reached for the broom, but Peri gave a loud and dramatic gasp.

“You dropped my food! Did you not like it?” Her lower lip trembled, and then she pulled her lance from her back. “That’s mean! You’re gonna pay for that!”

Isaac couldn’t continue the discussion, as he was busy running for his life.

>>><<<

“What’s going on over there?” Soren peered over his shoulder at the commotion occurring on the patio.

“Sounds like someone ticked off Peri,” Ike said.

“Hmm… She seems a bit unstable. I’m surprised that she’s allowed to roam freely.”

“You get used to it. Prince Alfonse swapped her lance for a wooden one, so she hasn’t been able to actually stab anyone outside of battle.” Ike settled back against the tree, pulling Soren to him.

“I told you that we shouldn’t do this in public.” Soren’s protest came without anger, and he didn’t pull away. Ike held him closer.

“And I told you, we don’t have to worry about it here. Lots of people show affection openly like this. When in Gallia, do as the Gallians, right?”

“I suppose.” If anything, Soren was just as nervous about being close like this even in private. It didn’t feel like he was allowed to do this. Leaning into Ike’s chest, feeling his strong arms around him, breathing in his scent… Was this actually alright?

Ike stroked a hand through Soren’s hair and watched as Isaac went streaking past in the distance, Peri following and Mist bringing up the rear of their bizarre little procession. Had Soren been paying attention, Ike had no doubt that the mage would have blown Peri to smithereens for daring to threaten Isaac.

And that was the thing, really – Soren still loved Isaac. Ike knew it, Soren possibly knew it, but Isaac was probably oblivious. Ike knew enough about himself to realize how dense he could be about certain things. At seventeen, he had been a complete blockhead about romance. He wasn’t much better now, but at least he had three years of a solid relationship under his belt. Isaac and Soren were just starting out. Between Isaac’s obliviousness and Soren’s neurosis, they were hopeless.

There was no point in pushing it. They would figure it out in their own time.

“Soren…”

The mage had never known Ike to be suggestive, but damn if that wasn’t a suggestive intonation in Ike’s voice. Soren gasped as he was pulled over to straddle Ike’s lap, balling his fists in Ike’s shirt as he looked up at him in confusion.

“Can I…?” Their lips were close. Soren closed the gap without thinking, thrilled by the novelty of it. They kissed hungrily, Soren feeling as if he were being swept away by the tide as all of his inhibitions fell away from him. He no longer cared that they were technically in plain sight. There was only Ike – the solid chest beneath his fingers, the scent of sweat and leather, the low groan that resulted from a sharp bite to Ike’s lip.

“Hey, Ike!” someone called from up the slope, and the two pulled apart, Soren’s eyes wide and Ike cursing under his breath.

“That’s probably Chrom. We have maneuvers today.” Reluctantly shifting Soren off of his lap, Ike stood and brushed off his rear. “I’ll see you later?”

“Mmm.” Soren could only nod dumbly as Ike took off, his red cape billowing out behind him. The mage touched his lips, which were still tingling. He could still feel Ike’s warmth on his hands.

He wasn’t at all sure that he was doing the right thing. Doubts swirled in his head like an ever-present swarm of locusts, eating away at his sanity bit by bit. But when he was held in Ike’s powerful arms, the swarm abated. The doubts didn’t matter anymore. Left in the afterglow of the kiss, Soren felt more content than ever he had before.

His expression was clearly one of happiness, and Isaac didn’t like it.

Soren startled when the young mercenary burst from the nearby shrubs, his hair a mess of leaves and twigs and his breaths uneven. He glanced around warily before rushing over to the tree where Soren was sitting. “Isaac?!” Soren gaped as the commander gave a mighty leap and scrambled into the tree.

“I’m not here!” came the hushed reply. “Ow… Ow! Damn…” There was a rustling, and then Isaac’s face appeared through the lush foliage. “I wanted to talk to you, but I think she’s still looking for me.”

“Who is?” For a wild moment, Soren feared that Aimee had somehow found them.

“You know that crazy girl with the blue and pink hair? I dropped a plate, and now she’s out to kill me.” Isaac’s eyes darted around nervously. “I ran past here a minute ago, and when I saw you and him…” His voice dropped a bit, resentment heavy in his tone.

Soren stood up and leaned against the tree trunk, speaking softly so that nobody at a distance would notice his lips moving. “Are you really afraid of her?”

“It’s not like I can fight her here,” Isaac said. “But never mind that. I came to talk to you about… about me. Uh, him. The other me.”

He could tell that he’d hit on something that he shouldn’t have. Soren went rigid and lowered his gaze to the ground. “Does it… bother you?”

“Yes. Uh, well, no! I mean, yes. It does.” Isaac wished that Soren would look at him. He could practically feel the self-loathing rolling off of him.

“… I’m sorry.” Soren moved to walk away.

“Wait!” Isaac reached out, misplaced his hand, and fell with a thud. Soren turned and regarded him with something like alarm, unsure whether to help or not, but Isaac was on his feet in seconds. “Soren, wait. Listen to me.” He limped towards the mage. “I’m not good with things like this. I don’t really know what it is that I’m feeling. But… I don’t…”

“I understand. You probably… can’t stand the thought of us like that, can you? It must be… strange.” It took all of Soren’s restraint to keep himself in check. He wanted to crumble, wanted to run and seek protection in Ike’s arms. He wanted to take everything back and reassure Isaac that he didn’t feel that way about him. He wanted—

“I love you!”

Soren looked at him, stunned. The tome in his belt fell to the grass, but he was too shocked to pick it up.

“At least, I think I love you.” Isaac swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared piercingly into Soren’s eyes. “I can’t stand it when I see you two together. I want to…” He sighed, irritated with himself and his lack of eloquence. “I want to be the one… who’s… with you. Like that.”

“Ike…”

“I know he’s pretty much got me beat, in strength and experience. He probably knows more about you than I do.” Isaac’s brows furrowed deeper. He could see that Soren wanted to say something, but he wasn’t ready to lose his momentum yet. “I want to try, though. I want to be better than him. Even if it does take me three years, I want to…” His expression hardened, determination straightening his spine and puffing his chest. “I want to be good enough for you.”

Soren couldn’t articulate a response to that. Good enough for _him_? He was the one who wasn’t worthy of Ike. Yet here he was, standing silently by as Isaac declared his love to him. The slight dizziness that Soren felt was only partially due to his sudden failure to breathe.

“I want to respect your choice,” Isaac continued, now looking a bit more unsure of himself. “If you truly do want him over me, then… I’ll step back. But until you tell me that, I’m going to give it everything I’ve got.” Blue met red once more, and Soren’s heart stopped. “I won’t lose to him.”

“Ike!”

They both looked up and across the field, where two colorful blobs were streaking towards them.

“Ike, RUN! She’s seen you!”

“YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR TRASHING MY FOOD!”

“Aw, damn!” Isaac took off running, pausing only long enough to tell Soren, “I’ll see you later!” Then he was gone, vaulting over the hedge and into the gardens, Peri and Mist soon galloping after.

Soren gathered up his tome and went inside. He needed a strong drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who can guess where I got the chapter title.


	4. The Race Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I had no intention of writing this so soon. But as long as I've got the inspiration, why shouldn't I keep updating? I haven't had a creative burst like this in a while! I hope it doesn't seem too rushed or sloppy, though. I'm really not trying to rush it; the chapters just keep coming!

Life in Askr wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, despite the summoner’s best efforts to paint it that way. There was plenty of work to do, and after spending two days settling in, Soren was called to train with Ninian, Azura, and Bruno. He improved quickly, adapting to his new surroundings and gaining new skills as he flexed his magical abilities. It gave him an excellent excuse to avoid Ike and Isaac for a few days as he gathered his thoughts.

Ike was patient, but Isaac was growing nervous. Once the initial rush of bravado had worn off (and once he had managed to shake Peri for good), he realized that he had no idea how to woo someone. It was simply a foreign concept to him. He couldn’t remember how his parents had behaved when his mother was alive, and he had never spent any time observing how other couples went about it.

“I need advice,” he finally told Roy one day, after they had finished a vigorous round of training.

“You need advice from me?” The noble boy grimaced, patting his scuffed cheek gently. Despite the advantage Roy’s training sword had over Isaac’s wooden axe, Isaac had utterly defeated him.

“Yeah. Do you know anything about romance?”

Roy balked at him, staring from across the little basin of water they were using to wash their hands off. “Are you serious? You’re asking me about _romance_?”

Isaac focused on scrubbing his hands. “I was just wondering if you have any experience with it.”

“That’s not really something I know much about. You’re older than I am, you know.” Roy blotted his hands on a towel and used it to wipe the back of his neck. “Why don’t you ask your father?”

“I can’t.” Isaac grabbed another towel and wiped his face. “I don’t know why, but I can’t approach him with something like this. It’s always been hard to talk to him, with some things.”

“Oh. My father’s so amiable, it’s hard to imagine something that I couldn’t ask him about…” Roy patted his scrapes and cuts with the damp towel, thinking carefully. “Maybe you could ask Marth?”

“I thought for sure you would know. You and Lilina have a thing, right?”

“Shhh, not so loud!” Roy looked around, visibly tense, and then leaned over the basin, his voice a whisper. “Her father is out to get me, Isaac. You have no idea what trouble that is! Whoever your crush is, you’d better hope she doesn’t have a father here.”

“ _He_ doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Roy’s ears nearly faded into his hair for how red they became. “Sorry. Well, then that’s all the advice I can give you. If his father isn’t here to hunt you down, then you’re in the clear.”

“Yeah, but in the clear to do what?”

The redhead shrugged and threw his towel into the hamper. “Sorry. I wish I could help you, but I’m not really sure about all that, myself. Me and Lilina are just friends. I mean, sure, she’s pretty. And smart. And we’ve been friends forever…” Once more, his blush was fit to camouflage him under his hair. “Uh, sorry, Isaac. But let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah. Thanks…”

Isaac dropped onto a bench and put his gloves back on. He was just pulling on his cloak when a sultry voice purred, “You know… I think I could help you.” The young commander looked up to see Loki peeking out from behind a cabinet, her black bunny ears flopping over her massive bosom. “If it’s love you’re troubling over, I might have just the solution…”

“No, thanks.” He hightailed it out of there before he could even hear her response. Tangling with Loki was a recipe for disaster, and everyone knew it. He wasn’t quite that desperate yet.

Strolling through the courtyard, Isaac saw many heroes with whom he was friendly. Ephraim and Lyon were chatting near the fountain. The Robins and Chrom were engaged in a lively discussion. Claude, Niles, and Morgan were huddled close together, no doubt scheming something, as Dimitri peered at them from behind a book. None of them seemed like they would offer him any romantic advice, and it would be too embarrassing to ask. Not for the first time, Isaac wished that his mother was alive. From what his father had said of her, she had been an expert on love, having been a priestess. She would have understood what he was going through, or at least she would have been willing to listen.

He was almost to the castle proper before Roy came running up to him with someone else in tow. “Isaac, I may have an answer to your problem!” the younger boy said, panting slightly.

“Hello!” a sprightly blue-haired girl peeked out from behind Roy - his friend Lilina. Isaac nodded to her. “Roy was telling me about your problem. I bet I could help you out!”

“You know about romance?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure, I do! Your sister and I have been reading romance novels, and…”

“Stop right there.” Isaac crossed his arms, taking a defensive stance. “If you talk to Mist, then I’m not going to tell you a thing. She’s a blabbermouth.”

“I won’t tell her, I swear!” Lilina said.

“I guess… Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

“Absolutely!”

Isaac studied her face and found no trace of deception there. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Of course! Come on, Roy, we need to do some research!”

“Huh? Why do I have to go?!” Roy moaned as Lilina tugged on his hand.

“Hey, when should we talk about it?” Isaac called.

“I’ll have Roy come and get you. It’ll be a secret meeting!”

The young commander felt relief and apprehension in equal measure as he entered the castle, squinting as a rush of enchanted air cooled him from the day’s hot sunshine. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could trust Lilina, but she seemed an honest person. He had no reason to doubt that she would do her best to help him. And perhaps there was something to Mist’s idea of seeking advice. It was just like anything, he supposed; training and study were required before one could become proficient.

“Hello, there.”

A chill ran up Isaac’s spine. He knew that voice. Niles was walking up behind him, his footsteps making no sound on the carpeted floors. “What do you want?” Isaac asked warily, eyeing the former thief with learned suspicion. How many more encounters was he going to have today? He wasn't very familiar with the Nohrian archer, but he knew enough about his reputation to avoid him.

“My, so wary. I merely wanted to chat.” Niles’ smile was genuine, but his tone was all mischief. “I couldn’t help overhearing you out there. Love troubles?”

Isaac turned and continued walking, irritated to find that Niles was keeping step with him. “It’s nothing,” he said, knowing that Niles could sniff out a lie from a mile away.

“Oh, but love troubles are some of the worst troubles. So prickly and difficult. Would you like some advice?”

“Not from you, thanks.”

“You’re a testy one, aren’t you? Well, if you need anyone to give you a… _hand_ , I’ll be at the ready.” With a blink of his one eye that could have been a wink (Isaac didn’t want to acknowledge that it could be a wink), Niles disappeared around the corner. Isaac had no doubt that before dinner, half the castle would know that he was seeking romance advice. The thought was just irritating enough to put him in a dour mood, and when he saw Ike coming down the stairs, he glowered with as much venom as he could muster.

“Soren’s in his room,” Ike said as he passed by. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

Isaac’s mouth dropped open. “You want me to talk to him?”

“Yeah. I’ve already been to see him. I think he misses you.”

The younger version frowned at the elder’s retreating back. “Wait a minute… Did he say anything to you about me?”

Ike turned to look at Isaac over his shoulder. “No. Why?”

“You…” Isaac puffed his chest up and stood as tall as he could. “I’m going to fight for him. I’ve decided that I’m not going to just roll over and let you have him. Not if there’s a chance that he could choose me.”

A rough eyebrow arched slightly. “OK.”

Isaac deflated somewhat. “You’re alright with that? You realize that I’m challenging you, right?”

“Heh, yeah, alright.”

The slight smirk on Ike’s face made Isaac bristle. When the older Ike turned and continued on his way, Isaac called out, “Why won’t you take me seriously?”

“Because it’s not a competition.”

Isaac spun on his heel and stalked up the stairs, grumbling under his breath. The way to the tacticians’ quarters was relatively new to him, and he took a couple of wrong turns before he found his way. This time, he could hear voices before he even saw the open doorway.

“If you take into account our abilities with the sword, then there’s no way I could lose!” Isaac knew that voice, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Sure, he may be the superior mage, but so _what_? Mages aren’t all that impressive. Just look at _you_!”

In the little sitting area just outside of the bedroom, a silver-haired man in a red outfit was pacing the floor while Soren sat at the table and glared down at his new tome. Kempf, Isaac realized, was the one doing the talking. Soren looked as if he was ready to lob a lightning bolt at the man. “I have heard that he is an accomplished dancer, as well,” Kempf continued furiously. “Huh! We’ll see about that when I upstage him at the next ball! I can cut a rug like **nobody’s business**!”

Soren looked up as Isaac approached, and relief washed over his features. He stood and tucked his tome into his belt. “Kempf, this is all fascinating stuff, but Isaac needs me,” he said as Kempf continued to rant about his dancing skills. Soren grabbed Isaac’s sleeve and dragged him back out of the room, his steps hurried and Isaac jogging to keep up.

“Thank the goddess…” Soren breathed once they were out of earshot. “I don’t think he’s ever going to stop. I would shut his mouth for him, but we’ve all been forbidden. It’s actually posted on the wall in our room.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Isaac asked, falling into a slower pace alongside Soren.

“He follows me! If I don’t have business with someone else, he trails after me like a neurotic dog. Apparently, he does that with everyone. One of the others will return soon and then he’ll latch onto them.”

“Huh.” Isaac couldn’t help smiling just a bit. Soren was irritated, and somehow that was a good thing. Soren was always mildly annoyed with someone, and it felt good to just listen to him rant. It was nice to know that things weren’t so awkward between them, that they could have a normal conversation.

“I hate to use you as a shield that way, but I had to get away before I broke the rules and turned him inside-out."

“You’re more patient than I remember. Before, you would have just done it, anyway.” Isaac commented lightly. Soren’s cheeks colored.

“Am I?”

“Well, I think so.” They stopped at a window overlooking the courtyard and the gardens beyond. “So, uh, how have you been? I see you have a new tome.”

Soren’s expression brightened just a bit. “Yes. Serpi gave it to me. It’s called Wind’s Brand, and it’s more powerful than anything I’ve used before. I’ve been studying it to get better acquainted with the spells.”

“Good, good.” Isaac leaned against the windowsill with one hand, the other resting on his hip in what he hoped was a casual stance. Soren wasn’t looking at him, though. He seemed occupied with the scenery, almost determined not to notice Isaac. 

“I… I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Yeah?”

“I have no idea why you…” Soren cleared his throat. “Why me, Isaac? I’m not worth all the trouble.”

“You are.” Isaac said this with absolute conviction. “You’ve been with me for everything. You’re always supporting me… I think you’re worth all the trouble in the world.” He brought his hand up, unsure of himself but determined to do something, and let it rest on Soren’s shoulder. “I couldn’t imagine being without you. I don’t know what ‘romance’ really looks like between two people, but…”

Words failed him then, but Soren curled up into himself and Isaac knew that words weren’t needed now. He pulled the mage into a hug, tucking him into his chest, and it felt so warm and so right that he wondered why he hadn’t done this before. “I’m going to try my best,” he said, murmuring into ebony hair.

“Isaac, you don’t have to try… I already…” Soren was looking up at him, his eyes were shining, and before he knew what was happening, Isaac was leaning down as Soren was leaning up. His eyelids slid shut when their lips met, the electric tingle firing his limbs and making his fingertips twitch across Soren’s back. Soren clutched at the front of his shirt, and for a moment they swayed, leaning into one another and supporting each other. Soren’s lips were soft and warm, and Isaac could feel his entire body responding. Without really meaning to, he pushed Soren up against the wall, his size and strength pinning the mage as Soren sighed into the kiss.

They pulled apart reluctantly. Soren had gotten used to breathing during passionate moments like this, but Isaac needed air. He pulled back slightly when he realized how heavily he was leaning into Soren, and Soren followed him, burying his face in Isaac’s chest and trembling all over.

“That was…” Isaac muttered, feeling almost feverish. Soren just nodded against him. Holding the mage tightly, Isaac concentrated on breathing evenly and quelling the heat in his loins. He needed to keep his head clear right now. “Now I know what other people see in that,” he said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I never really thought much about kissing and things like that. It just seemed like it wasn’t as great as everyone said. But, uh… Well, I guess it all depends on who you’re kissing.”

“Isaac…”

“Hm?”

“Did you really mean it, when you said that you loved me?”

“Every word.”

“… I…” Soren bit his lower lip, nuzzling further into Isaac’s warmth. “I l… love you, too.”

Clinging to each other, they stood for a long while next to the window. Isaac’s mind was still racing with confused thoughts, but his spirit was calmer than ever it had been. He felt like he belonged here, like holding Soren’s slight frame in his arms was all he had ever aspired to. And he was happy.

>>><<<

Late at night, Isaac lay awake in the commanders’ barracks, staring up at the dark ceiling and listening to his fellow heroes snoring. There was a fire burning in his heart, stoking his determination. Now that he knew Soren’s feelings, losing was out of the question.

There was a creak as the door opened, and Isaac turned his head just enough to see who it was. A short silhouette in the moonlight, the person tiptoed across the floorboards, making more noise than he obviously intended to. He paused every few feet, swore under his breath, and continued at a slower pace than before. He was practically crawling by the time he came to Isaac’s bunk.

“Isaac?” A wild head of hair peeked over the top of Isaac’s bed. The voice was a whisper, but Isaac thought he recognized it, anyway. The commander sat up and leaned over so he could speak softly.

“Yeah?” 

“Meet me and Lilina in the library in about ten minutes.”

So, it was Roy. Isaac nodded, and lay back down as Roy attempted to leave more quietly than he’d arrived. The generals’ quarters were full of veteran soldiers, though. Isaac had no doubt that several of them were awake, watching and listening. War could do that to a person – make them wary and alert. Isaac would have to wait a bit before he left, lest he arouse suspicion.

He counted to sixty in his head, then did it again and again. He marked twelve minutes before he dared to rise, slowly, not bothering to grab one of his weapons from the rack on the wall. The wooden bunk creaked as he descended the ladder. Glancing at Hrid sleeping in the bottom bunk, at Ryoma and Xander in the beds next to theirs, he made his way across the floor, still in his socks.

The front of the large room was curtained off, compartmentalized into sections for the more elite leaders. Isaac could see that the older Ike was in his bed, and that was a relief to him. He slowed down a little as he passed by his father’s bed, though. Greil had always been an expert at catching him sneaking out. The last thing Isaac wanted was for his father to catch wind of his romantic dalliances. He tiptoed towards the door, reassured by the grumbling snores coming from behind Greil’s curtain. He reached the doorknob and let out a sigh of relief. He’d made it.

As he opened the door and slipped through it, he heard his father's gruff voice murmur, “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do, pup.”

Shutting the door, he hightailed it down the hall, his face burning.


	5. Nocturnal Wanderings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the last few chapters have an awful lot of Isaac either running away, or being left in bewilderment by another character. Well, get ready for more of that!

The library was almost entirely dark at this hour, lit here and there by perpetually glowing sconces on the walls. The ground floor was large enough to be totally shadowed, and Isaac made for the safety of the darkness before looking around for Roy and Lilina. “Hello?” he called in a hushed tone; his voice echoed eerily.

“Over here!” The answer came from the area by the fireplace, which was down to a few embers that didn’t give off much light. When Isaac came towards it, he saw that Roy and Lilina were sitting on the floor, shielding a lantern from view. They had been hidden by the long sofa. “Hi!” Lilina said, her high voice just a little too loud in the silence. Isaac came around the sofa and plopped onto the floor beside Roy.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, I thought of some things that might help you,” Lilina said excitedly. She placed her hand on a stack of books sitting on the coffee table. “I swear by these authors. They’ve written some of the best romance novels of all time, and if they can’t help you, then nobody can.”

“Uh… You want me to read them?”

“Hehe! No, Mist told me that you don’t like to read. I’ll just give you a list of pointers, OK?”

“Now that, I understand.” Isaac leaned forward. “What should I know?”

“Here you go.” Lilina handed him a pad of paper and a pen. “Take notes and keep them handy somewhere. You’ll be like Casanova in no time!”

“Like who?”

“Never mind.” She gave him that look that people were always giving him - exasperated, amused, just a bit indulgent. “OK, now the first thing you want to remember is that…”

“Bitches love flowers.”

“Roy!” Lilina’s blue hair whirled around her as she whipped around to gape at her friend. Roy gave her a sheepish look.

“Well, that’s what Niles told me, at least…”

“Oh, you can’t listen to him!” Lilina said in dismay.

“Bitches… love…” Isaac was writing carefully.

“Don’t write that down!” She slapped his hand, and he glared at her.

“What should I write, then?”

“Not that!” Lilina grumbled. “I mean, flowers are good, but you should never use that word… Especially when you’re talking about your love!”

Isaac glanced at the paper. “Which wo- oh.” He scratched it out.

“OK, now you do actually want to give gifts. Not a lot, but a nice romantic gesture goes a long way.”

“Give… gifts.”

“They don’t have to be expensive, even. Just give him something you think he might like.”

“Something… he… likes.”

“Rule number two: Tell him he looks nice. People like to be complimented!”

“Tell… him…”

“Wait a minute, Lilina,” Roy said. “You’re talking like he’s going after a girl. Soren’s a boy. Boys like different things than girls, don’t they?”

“Roy, everybody likes to receive gifts, and everybody likes to be complimented.” Lilina crossed her arms.

“Uh, I really appreciate this advice,” Isaac said. “But what do you do when you have a rival?”

“Ooooh, you have a rival?” Lilina practically swooned. It was better than she'd imagined. 

“Yeah. How can I beat him?”

“You could always challenge him to a duel,” she suggested.

“No, he’d clobber me. He’s older and stronger than I am.”

“How do you know if you won’t even try?” Roy asked.

Isaac’s mouth snapped shut. “You’ve got me there,” he admitted. “Do you really think I should?”

“Definitely.” Lilina shuffled through the books, selecting one with a gilded cover. “There’s a really great scene in this one, where the hero has to duel his rival to the death.”

“I don’t want to kill him!” Isaac said, alarmed.

“That’s just for dramatic effect. You don’t really have to kill him,” Lilina giggled. “If that fails, you could always challenge him at something else. A test of strength, or a test of bravery, or…”

“An eating contest,” Roy suggested.

“Hehe, I guess you could.”

“Huh…” It was a lot to think about. Isaac nodded slowly, digesting this information. “Anything else I should know?”

“Do you know how to kiss?” Lilina asked.

“… Yeah. We did that already.” Isaac looked down at his paper, idly scribbling in the margins.

“Oh, really?” Lilina sounded far too interested. When he didn't elaborate, she said, “Well, then that’s that! I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Thanks, Lilina.” Isaac stood up, pocketing the piece of paper and handing the pen and pad back to her. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” she said.

“Thanks, Roy.”

“Any time.”

Isaac didn’t ask why they were staying behind as he padded back towards the door. He was beginning to notice things, like the slight blush on Lilina’s cheeks and the red mark on Roy’s neck. The kiss he had shared with Soren seemed to have opened up a whole new world to him, and he was now wondering how he had failed to see these things before.

The first order of business, he decided, was to find a way to challenge his older self without getting killed for it. A duel was out of the question. A contest might be better; he could practice before the event. But what sort of challenge was suitable for a romantic rival?

His thoughts were interrupted when he met Ike coming out of the commanders’ room. The elder jumped a little, his hand on Ragnell’s hilt, before realizing who was there. “You should be careful, sneaking around like that,” Ike admonished. He brushed past Isaac and continued down the hall.

“Where does he get off, lecturing me?” Isaac grumbled under his breath, his hand on the doorknob. He paused, though, thinking. Ike had Ragnell with him, and he had a shirt on. He was going farther than simply to the latrines. A notion seized Isaac, and he spun on his heel and crept down the hall after his older self, curious to see if his hunch was correct.

Ike strolled down the corridor easily, his hands in his pockets and a bounce in his step. Isaac had little trouble following him. The general never turned to look behind him, even as he emerged into the courtyard. Silvery moonlight reflected off of the whitewashed walls and the glistening fountain. Feh the owl was fluttering around somewhere overhead, giving off an occasional cheerful hoot. Isaac rushed to catch the closing door but hesitated inside; he would be seen if he rushed out there too soon.

Ike’s footfalls echoed loudly in the stillness of the night but were soon drowned out by the gushing fountain. Isaac squinted in the darkness, trying to determine the best time to follow. As Ike disappeared around the fountain, Isaac slid through the crack in the door, sticking to the shadows near the wall as he edged around the perimeter of the courtyard.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” Soren’s voice was too quiet for Isaac to hear over the water, but Ike heard. The general smiled when he spotted Soren sitting on a bench nearby, a black shadow with a pale face just barely illuminated by the moon.

“Sorry. I made sure that everyone was asleep first, as you asked.”

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” Soren said, standing as Ike approached.

“I don’t mind, even if I don’t care who sees us.” Ike refrained from pulling Soren to him just yet. Instead, he held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

Shyly, Soren took Ike’s hand. It felt impossibly warm, especially against the night’s chill; the warmth seemed to take him over entirely, chasing away his doubts as only Ike could. They went off together through the gate and into the gardens, which were lit by hanging lanterns posted here and there.

Isaac couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he didn’t dare move closer to eavesdrop. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was spying and that it wasn’t the noble thing to do. Overpowering his guilt was the beast that reared its head every time he saw Ike and Soren together. That gnawing jealousy ate at him from the inside, and he moved almost without conscious thought. He was driven to find out what Ike was doing so he could do it better.

They wandered through the gardens for a while, hand in hand, occasionally stopping to admire something or other. Isaac kept to the shadows, making as little noise as possible and wishing that he had brought a weapon – he felt naked without one. The clinking of metal wouldn’t do him any favors now, though, so he concentrated on the task at hand, keeping his footsteps slow and light.

He froze when someone came around the corner of the greenhouse at the edge of the garden. It was too dark and too far for Isaac to recognize who it was, so he pressed his back to the garden wall and prayed that they would move on quickly. The person stopped to chat with Ike and Soren, but then swiftly moved on their way, heading in Isaac’s direction. Isaac swore under his breath as the pair of lovers walked on. Before Isaac could even see the newcomer’s face, they were swallowed by the shadows.

“Who’s there?” a familiar voice called, and Isaac groaned. He’d been spotted.

“Just me,” he said, emerging into a circle of light cast by a lantern. The guard – Ephraim, judging by the voice and the gleaming armor – relaxed and came to meet Isaac. His face came into view as he entered the light.

“I just saw your older self,” the prince said casually. “Were you looking for him?”

“No,” Isaac said. “I was just going for a walk.”

“Crouched down in the bushes like that?” Ephraim’s eyebrow rose.

“I, uh, dropped something.” He shifted from one foot to the other, hoping that Ephraim wouldn’t see how nervous he was.

“Well, carry on,” the prince said, and Isaac gratefully went on his way. 

By that time, he had totally lost the trail. He came to the edge of the garden and peered out across the field beyond. He couldn’t see any movement, and he cursed again as he hopped over the fence. “OK, where would they go?” he mumbled to himself. If he wanted to take Soren somewhere private, where would that be?

Figuring that it was worth a shot, Isaac loped across the grass swiftly but warily, darting his eyes around now and then as he approached the terrace. He didn’t feel the cold air or the dew seeping through his socks. His sights were set on the expanse of stone just down the slope, and as soon as his feet touched marble he froze and looked around. There was a willow in a little planter plot, near the banister at the edge of the terrace. He made for it, hugged the bark as he sought refuge in its shadow.

If he leaned over just a bit, he could see straight down to the culvert where he’d met Soren before. Feeling as if his stomach was full of bees, he peered down and looked around. There they were, as he’d thought they would be, entwined in each other’s arms and kissing.

Somehow, the sight wasn’t the awful blow he would have expected. He was unable to tear his gaze away from the strong, powerful body pinning Soren’s small form to Ike’s outspread cloak. They were lying down, allowing Isaac a bird’s-eye view of their moonlit escapades. Ike rolled them over and pulled Soren atop him, his hands cupping Soren’s rear and causing the mage to whimper. It was a sound that Isaac had never heard Soren make before. It was desperate and needy, and it promised things that Isaac had barely begun to dream of.

It was arousing, Isaac realized with fascination and not a small amount of shame.

He didn’t wait around to see what they would do. The wrongness of it all caught up with him in one swooping blow to his gut, and he ran, not caring that his wet socks smacked a little against the paving stones. He didn’t want to spy, he realized. It didn’t feel fair.

The trek back to the castle seemed to take no time at all. He wanted to leave them far behind. He wasn’t around to hear Soren exclaim, “Wait, Ike! Someone’s up there!”

Nor was he around to hear Ike reply, “It’s nothing,” with a smirk and a glance upward.

>>><<<

Isaac heard Ike come in just before dawn. The general’s heavy step caused the floorboards to creak, and Isaac held his breath, realizing that he was coming closer and closer. With his eyes shut tight, he couldn’t see the man standing next to his bed, but he could feel his presence. Then, something was dangled over his face; his eyes shot open and he coughed from the musty smell, finding an indistinct gray thing just above him.

“You left your sock outside,” Ike muttered, his voice barely a low hum but loud to Isaac’s ears. He let the sock fall, and Isaac swiped it off of his face with a grimace.

“Where’d you find it?” he asked, sitting up.

“Where do you think?” Ike scoffed. “If you’re gonna follow someone, don’t lose your socks everywhere.”

Isaac balked. “You knew?”

“Sure, I did. I figured you’d follow me, because it’s what I would’ve done at your age.”

“Stop saying ‘at your age’ like you’re our father!” Isaac hissed irritably. “You’re not that much older than me!”

“Keep it down…” Hrid mumbled from below.

Isaac took a deep breath and said, softly, “You don’t know everything, and I’m not a child. You don’t have to scold me like one.”

“Father did say to treat you like a younger brother,” Ike said simply. “Besides, if you want to get anywhere with Soren, you won’t do it by sneaking around. It’s not like us.”

The younger man blinked, taken aback. “Are you saying that you want me to be with him?”

“Look, I told you before…” Ike leaned closer, his voice now a whisper. “I don’t care if you’re with him. He loves you, and you love him. What’s the problem?”

“But…” Isaac’s brows couldn’t have furrowed any more if they’d been equipped with shovels. “Don’t you love him, too?”

“Yeah. So? I already said that I don’t mind sharing him.”

“Sh- sharing?”

“I see he didn’t mention it to you,” Ike sighed. “Figures. You two never talk about anything important, do you?”

“Uh… I, uh…”

“I officially give you permission to be with him, for as long as he wants you. You don’t have to worry about me taking him away. He’s yours, OK?”

“Give me permission?” Isaac’s voice rose just a bit, until someone threw a rolled-up pair of socks at him from one of the other bunks.

“I was with him first,” Ike pointed out. “Order of rank goes: Soren, me, you.”

The young commander growled in irritation, but he had to admit that Ike had a point. “What does Soren say about all this?” he asked finally.

“I think he’s open to it, though you know how he is with admitting anything. I say we just carry on and see how things develop, unless he decides otherwise.”

“Sharing…” It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Isaac. “I’m not sure I can do that. I’m not… I don’t know.”

“Give it some time, think about it,” Ike said, stepping away. “There’s no hurry. For now, we both have him, and that’s enough.” He paused, regarding Isaac for a moment. “By the way, you did the right thing. It’s not in you to spy on people.”

“I… I guess you’re right.” Isaac ran a hand through his hair, not sure how to feel. “So, you really did know that I was there?”

“Yeah.”

“… Did Soren?”

“No. You can tell him yourself.”

Isaac laughed bitterly. “He’s gonna be mad at me… But I guess I should tell him, huh?”

Ike came close again and put a hand on Isaac’s arm. “I don’t think you realize how honest you really are. Don’t lose that, OK? I know I didn’t, but all the same… Whatever happens here in Askr…”

Sometimes, Isaac had the strange feeling that Ike was trying to recapture something that he had lost during the second war. There was a gulf between them, a difference that ran deeper than physical appearance or age or skill. The younger was no stranger to hardship, but it seemed as if the elder had lived through horrors that Isaac could only imagine. Whatever had happened, Ike seemed almost desperate to preserve what little innocence Isaac had left. Isaac nodded gravely. “Yeah. OK.”

“Oh, and Isaac?”

“Yes?”

“Spy on us like that again, and I’ll beat you senseless.” Isaac’s face fell as Ike patted his arm - amicably, even if his tone was dead serious. “For Soren’s sake.”

The younger commander didn’t sleep even in the pre-dawn hour. He was dead on his feet by the time Greil rousted him out of bed.


	6. A Rising Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VOTE SOREN IN THE CHOOSE YOUR LEGENDS!!!
> 
> ... Ahem... Sorry. I would just love to have another Soren to pair with one of the Ikes. Then we could avoid messes like the one in this fic! :P

The big question drove Isaac to distraction over the next few days. Was sharing really an option? Would it be weird? Would Soren really go for it? Isaac had no reason to doubt his older self, but would he actually be able to share in practice? Could they even share, if they were the same person? Or, were they the same person at all? That would lead him back to the old puzzle of whether or not he and Ike were one and the same, and that guaranteed at least a minor headache.

There was always the possibility that an older Soren would be summoned, Isaac mused. In that case, wouldn’t it be better for Ike to wait? But then, Isaac supposed it wasn’t a good idea to live in constant hope of something that may never happen – especially if it was something that they weren’t able to influence.

WHAM

Isaac sprawled on the ground, dazed and disoriented. “Come on, boy, pay attention!” Greil called from across the training yard. “You could have dodged that one!”

“Yeah, you totally could have!” Mia said, helping him up. “What’s wrong, Boss?”

“Nothing,” Isaac jerked his arm out of her hold, immediately regretting it when she gave him a confused look. “Sorry, Mia. I’m just… a little distracted lately.”

“Well, you can’t train if your head’s not in it,” she said dejectedly.

“Yeah…” It was almost time for Soren to return from a meeting, he noted as he glanced up at the clock tower. “Uh, I have somewhere to be. I’ll see you later. Sorry about that.”

Mia followed him as he made his way inside. “Come on, Boss, something really seems to be wrong. You sick or something?”

“No.” Isaac kept walking, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Then, could it be…” Mia gasped, and Isaac turned to look at her.

“What?”

She was staring at him in awe. “Are you thinking of someone special?”

He stopped in his tracks. “What?!”

“You are! Boss, you’re thinking of… HIM!”

“H- him?!” Isaac’s face flushed, and he glanced away from her. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she said teasingly. “I can tell. You have that same look on your face that I get when I think of that person.”

“You, uh… You have someone you think about, too?”

“Of course! Haven’t I told you a hundred times? I’m searching for my rival!”

Isaac almost wanted to laugh in relief. “Your rival, right.” When he thought about it, though, his rival had been the one on his mind. He grew serious again. “Hey, Mia? You would do anything to surpass your rival, wouldn’t you?”

“Tch, I gotta meet him first,” Mia said, leaning against the wall to allow a group of heroes to pass. “You know, Boss, surpassing your rival isn’t the goal. I mean, it is, but the fun is in the pursuit. The challenge! To meet your equal, to know that they can’t beat you and you can’t beat them, always holding each other up with the challenge of the fight… It’s almost romantic!” Isaac wished that she would lower her voice; a few of the heroes who had just passed (namely, Nino and Florina) were looking back at them curiously.

“Huh… You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks.” Isaac nodded to her.

“No problem, Boss! Good luck with your rival!” Mia took off then, beaming and seemingly in a very good humor. Isaac went on his way, so lost in thought that he nearly barged right into Xander (“Careful, there!”).

“Isaac?” Soren’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. The mage had just emerged from the meeting hall with the other strategists.

“Hey, Soren.” Isaac felt a bit lighter as he went to greet him. “How was the meeting?”

Soren gave a meaningful glance in Kempf’s direction (the general was currently arguing his merits to a highly exasperated Innes). “I’ll tell you later,” he muttered, leading Isaac back out into the main hall. “How was training?”

“Mia knocked me on my ass,” Isaac said with an embarrassed laugh. “I was distracted.”

“Hmm.” Soren glanced at him, seemingly looking him over for injuries. A familiar warmth bubbled up inside him at Soren’s concern.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Was there any place in particular you wanted to go today?”

“Not really, as long as it’s with you.” Soren seemed embarrassed by his own candor. He looked down at the floor as they walked, his cheeks pink. The warmth in Isaac’s chest grew.

“We could go to the hot spring. I could use a bath, and it looks like you need to unwind a bit.”

“I’ve heard that there is one here. I haven’t visited yet.”

“I’ll take you there,” Isaac said, diverting their course.

The Aether Resort was accessed through the same portal that led them to the Aether arena. Soren hadn’t seen it before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The gateway was large, ringed in gold and glowing with an ethereal blue light. There were already heroes coming and going; those arriving held shopping bags, wrapped parcels, and takeout boxes.

“Serpi has to be with us to get to the arenas,” Isaac explained as he and Soren queued up behind Eliwood, Ninian, and Roy.

“Hi, guys,” Roy said when he noticed them behind him. “Going to do some shopping?”

“We’re heading for the springs,” Isaac said.

“We’re up,” Eliwood said. “See you guys there!” He, Ninian, and Roy entered the portal, and Isaac and Soren stepped up to wait their turn.

“It seems busy,” Soren said quietly.

“Don’t worry, it’s pretty big,” Isaac said. “It won’t seem that crowded once we get there.”

Camilla and Elise emerged a moment later, giggling about something. Isaac took Soren’s hand and led him through the light, into the snowy courtyard of…

“Relaxation Nation?” Soren’s eyebrow rose when he read the sign stretched over the entrance. “Really?”

“Uh, that’s what the summoner calls it,” Isaac said. “Come on, the springs are this way… I think.”

Soren followed Isaac across snow-packed cobblestones. “Haven’t you been here before?”

“Well, it changes sometimes. Last time I was here, it was autumn, and everything was in this big castle…”

“I see.” The mage was looking around, taking everything in cautiously but curiously. Spring had come early to Askr, but winter lingered here. Snow flew in light flurries as heroes bustled to and fro between the buildings. There was a red lantern or shrine of some sort in the middle of the square, next to a bubbling fountain that flowed despite the freezing temperature. Roy gave the couple a wave as he disappeared into a shop with his parents.

“Yeah, there’s the spring.” Isaac led Soren down a little side street, past what looked to be an inn (they could hear a rowdy drinking game in progress, and Saber was stumbling out into the snow, apparently inebriated). The hot spring was surrounded by a high bamboo fence; steam billowed into the frosty air.

“Isn’t it a little cold to take a bath outdoors?” Soren asked.

“It’s not cold inside,” Isaac said. “The weather here is a bit strange. There’s a field off that way, where it’s always summer, and here it seems like it’s always springtime or something… You’ll see.”

A man with long, rich brown hair was just coming out. “Ryoma,” Isaac greeted. “Is there space inside?”

“It’s empty now,” the Hoshidan prince replied. “Enjoy yourselves.” He moved on, heading for the town square.

Inside was indeed warm, and clear of any other heroes. Isaac and Soren found empty lockers next to each other, and Isaac began to strip immediately. Soren turned away, mumbling something about fetching some towels.

The commander went right to the showers, but Soren hung back a bit, a towel wrapped around his entire body. “Aren’t you coming?” Isaac asked, stepping into one of the stalls.

“I- in a minute.”

It wasn’t that Soren was too surprised; Isaac had never felt anything about bathing in front of others, because he had grown up in a mercenary company comprised mostly of men. The implications of this situation – the two of them, naked, alone – seemed to escape him. Feeling silly and ashamed, Soren hurriedly slipped into a shower stall and pulled the lever to start the water flowing.

“I assume we’re to wash thoroughly before getting into the bath,” Soren said.

“Yeah.”

Their voices echoed against the brown tile walls, and Soren shivered involuntarily. It was almost as if Isaac were speaking very close to his ear. He took a long time lathering and rinsing his hair. Isaac was done long before he got all of the soap out. “I’m heading in,” the commander said.

“O- OK.”

The warm water did nothing to quell Soren’s arousal, but he was able to get his mind off of it by running tactics drills in his head. He was sufficiently in control by the time he emerged, but he took care to bundle up in his towel in any case.

Outside, the spring was large and tastefully landscaped, ringed with lush greenery and spreading evergreen trees. Indeed, it was quite warm. Steam lay heavily across the surface of the water, shrouding the far end from view. Isaac was reclining midway down the pool, only the top of his head showing. Soren hurried to get in before Isaac could see him, but he was noticed, anyway.

“Finally,” Isaac said, shaking water from his hair. “It takes you forever to wash.”

“Try growing your hair out and see how long it takes to properly clean it,” Soren retorted, sinking into the water.

“Uh, Soren? You’re not supposed to get the towels wet.” Isaac lifted a dripping hand to point at a signboard listing the rules.

It wasn’t the heat that made Soren’s face so red, but he could easily pretend. Reluctantly, he unraveled his towel and lifted it out of the water, dropping the sodden cloth onto a nearby rock. Were it not written on the sign, and were Isaac not such an earnest young man, Soren would have thought that the commander was teasing him. The water was murky, and the steam was thick, but Soren still felt self-conscious as his bare skin was exposed to the heat.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac asked with a slight frown. “Too hot for you?”

 _“Yes,”_ Soren thought as he took in the sight of Isaac’s bare shoulders. “No,” he said as he swam over to join him.

When the mage came to sit beside him in the water, Isaac became aware of two things: One, that he and Soren were naked and alone in a hot spring; and two, that he had completely missed Fact Number One until now. He had been so happy to just be here with Soren that his libido had been dormant. Now, it was waking up. That was when Fact Number Three occurred to him: Soren must have thought that he had an ulterior motive, like some kind of pervert.

“Uh, I just now noticed that you’re naked,” he said.

Soren looked at him as if he had suddenly turned into a bear.

“What I mean is, I only realized it,” Isaac said to clarify, feeling stupider by the minute. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re… You’re, uh… You’re naked, and I’m naked, but I didn’t mean for… Uh...”

He felt then and there that the proper thing to do would be to drown himself. Soren’s look of shock was quickly morphing into something like horror. _“Stop talking!”_ his inner voice was practically screaming. _“Stop talking right now! You’re going to blow it!”_

“I swear I didn’t mean to bring you here so we could have sex,” he said, and his inner voice cursed him soundly. “If you wanted to, we could. But that wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, uh…” He hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry…”

To his immense relief, Soren laughed. Softly, lowly, but it was a laugh. “Leave it to you to make an awkward situation even worse…”

“Heh, yeah…”

“No, I… like that about you.” Soren smiled at him, and Isaac felt himself melting. “You say what’s on your mind, even if it’s not the ‘correct’ thing to say. You’re honest to a fault.”

“I just didn’t realize it, at first,” Isaac said, looking off across the water. “I mean, I didn’t want to make you think that I’m some kind of pervert. But I also don’t want you to think that I’m not… interested in you like that.”

Soren looked away, too. “I think this is the wrong place to talk about this.”

“You’re right. We’re in public, huh?”

“Mmm.” Soren didn’t miss how Isaac’s thigh bumped against his in the water. Somehow, their shared embarrassment put him at ease. Feeling bold, he leaned over and rested against Isaac’s shoulder.

A smile spread across Isaac’s face. He leaned back a bit, daring to put his arm around Soren’s back, and was rewarded with his tactician’s gentle sigh. He still wanted, still felt that heat in his belly, but he was content to just sit beside Soren and relax. Soren, too, was happy to be near Isaac like this, and his slight arousal began to calm itself as he closed his eyes and let the water do its job.

When Isaac was with Soren, his problems seemed much easier to manage. Ike’s proposition was far from his mind now, and he was feeling on top of the world. For Soren, though, the question weighed on him. “Is this really alright?” he muttered as he nuzzled into Isaac’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

Soren flinched. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. “I… I mean, is this really OK? For us to be together like this… With Ike…”

It was still a weighty issue. Somehow, Isaac couldn’t bring himself to care much right now. “He told me that he’s not a threat to me,” he said. “I believe him. I just want to be with you, Soren.”

“And you don’t mind…?”

“No.” Isaac kissed the top of Soren’s head, and the mage sighed happily. “I still plan on winning, though.”

Soren’s eyes snapped open. “Winning?”

“Yes. Even if we both have you, I’ll still prove that I’m the better one.”

“… Isaac, what are you talking about?”

“I want to surpass him and prove that we’re equals.” Isaac stared up at the sky, at the clouds passing lazily overhead. “Even if I never do, that’s what rivals do, right? They challenge each other.”

“I’m not sure if that’s…”

“Soren, I’m going to be the best lover I can be for you.” Isaac turned to look Soren in the eyes, and the mage was struck speechless in that intense gaze. “I strive to surpass my father, even if I never can, because it drives me to improve. So, I’ll strive to surpass myself, because I want to be good enough.”

“Isaac…”

Before Isaac could react, Soren slid into his lap and kissed him fiercely. The shy little mage wasn’t so shy now, and Isaac bit back a groan as he was all but attacked by that hot mouth. “I thought… in public…” Isaac muttered between kisses.

“Shut up,” Soren growled, his hands cupping Isaac’s face, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Just… Nnnh… Just… shut up…”

Eloquent though he was, Soren lacked the words to express his feelings at the moment. He devoured Isaac’s mouth, pressed against him, trying desperately to convey his gratitude and his love. It was too much to handle. He felt almost as if the emotions were swelling inside him, filling him until he was close to breaking. Isaac was hot and hard against him, matching his intensity as their tongues danced and their hands roamed.

“Woah, guys, get a room!” Someone said, and they broke apart, mortified. Tibarn had appeared in the doorway to the bathhouse (not bothering with a towel, Soren and Isaac both noted with some embarrassment).

“K- King Tibarn,” Isaac said as Soren slid off of his lap and disappeared beneath the water.

“Heh, don’t look so scared,” Tibarn grinned. “I know how it is when you’re young. Just keep in mind that you’re in a public place.”

“Of course,” Isaac nodded. “Sorry.”

They left the bath soon after, dressing hurriedly and all but fleeing out into the snowy courtyard. “Well, that was embarrassing,” Isaac said with a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. Soren just kept walking, his head lowered.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” the mage said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like I minded.” Isaac brushed his hand against Soren’s, briefly. “We just have to find a better place to be alone.”

Soren seemed pensive as they went into the dining hall at Isaac’s insistence. “Don’t worry about it,” Isaac told him as they sat down at the end of an empty table. It was warm inside, and a delicious smell was coming from the kitchen – Oscar was cooking, Isaac noted happily. The other tables were full of heroes, all chatting and comparing purchases.

The mage remained silent as their food was served (“It’s called a ‘burger’,” Oscar announced as he gave them their plates, and Isaac’s mood was lifted further). The dining hall in the resort was much smaller than the one in the castle, and customers rotated in and out quickly. The young couple was just getting up to leave when Soren said, “You know, I think that King Tibarn had the right idea.” 

“What do you mean?”

Soren chewed on the tip of his thumb. “I mean, wouldn’t it be… Couldn’t we ask Prince Alfonse for our own room?”

The notion had never occurred to Isaac, but now he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. “Of course!” He slapped himself on the forehead. “Soren, this is why you’re the brains of our mercenary group. You’re a genius!”

“Heh… A genius would have thought of that first and avoided being chewed out by the king of Phoenicis.” He looked pleased, despite his protests.

“Then, that’s what we’ll do.” Isaac led Soren outside, holding out his cape to shield him from a gust of cold wind. “We’ll ask the prince and see about getting a room of our own.”

“What about Ike?”

The warm feeling in Isaac’s chest turned to ice. “Uh… I hadn’t thought about that.”

“I don’t suppose you’d allow him to share our room, too.”

“I’m not sure.” Isaac huffed, watched his breath drift away from him. Then he brightened. “Hey, why not tell him about your idea? He can ask for his own room, and then we’ll both have a place.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Soren said. “I’ll bring it up to him.”

“Of course, my room’s going to be better.”

“What?” Soren snorted.

“It’ll be one of our battles,” Isaac said with a satisfied nod. “We’ll compete over who has the better room.”

“You're starting to sound like Mia.” Soren's tone was almost scolding, but he was looking at the commander fondly. 

They left the resort hand in hand, neither one really caring whether they were spotted. Both were too wrapped up in each other to notice that Tibarn and Reyson were being chased out of the bathhouse by Anna, who was shouting, “Get a room, you two!”


	7. Get a Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm churning these out quickly. I didn't even plan to update this fast! I just sat down, and before I knew it, I'd written another chapter. If the quality is a bit slapdash, I'm sorry - I get eager to post as soon as I'm done, almost like the story will disappear on me if I don't. T_T I'll go back and fix grammar and spelling later.

“My apologies, but there’s only one room available right now.”

That was not what the Ikes had expected to hear when they’d been directed to the steward. She was a stuffy older woman with her hair sleeked back in a bun, wearing a high-collared dress with few frills. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would mistake something like that, but it was a possibility. “Are you sure?” Isaac asked. “There are lots of empty rooms, from what I’ve seen.”

“There has been an interest lately in private housing,” she said stiffly, barely looking up from her clipboard. “We have a lovely room open, but it is the only one at this time. I can only take down one name. For whom should I reserve it?”

Ike and Isaac glanced at each other with twin frowns. “Could you give us some time?” Ike asked.

“Certainly. I’ll hold the room for three days.”

They left her office with their heads down, both thinking. Isaac knew better than to suggest that he take it, even if Ike already had a single bunk in the barracks. He knew that his older self would never willingly give up this opportunity; and neither would he. “So, how are we gonna decide this?” he asked as they came to the main hall.

“I don’t know,” Ike said thoughtfully. “We could fight for it.”

“I’d have to use Ragnell. I don’t stand a chance with Urvan.”

“Right.”

“Right.” Isaac’s shoulders straightened. “So, we’re gonna do this?”

“Unless you can think of another way.”

In truth, Isaac would have killed for an alternative to a duel. He was still nowhere near Ike’s league yet. Even with the same sword, Ike was far too skilled. “We could toss a coin.”

“And leave it up to chance?” Ike scoffed. “Come on, I know you’re better than that.”

“… Alright, then.” Isaac turned to glare at Ike, disheartened to see how much he had to look up to meet his gaze. “A gauntlet. Three challenges. Winner gets the room.”

“Now you’re talking,” Ike said with a smirk. “Alright, then. We’ll let Soren decide on the challenges.”

Isaac nodded gravely. “You’re on.”

“May the best Ike win.”

>>><<<

“Are you kidding me?” Soren sighed, looking up from his book. “I have a war to plan, and you want me to take time off to judge some silly competition?”

“This is for your honor,” Isaac said.

“Tch. Don’t kid yourselves. This is for your egos.”

Ike and Isaac exchanged a sheepish look. “Soren, you know that we’re lost without you,” Ike said. “Besides, this will benefit you no matter the outcome.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you figure that?”

“Well, either way, you’ll have a private space with one of us,” Isaac said.

“That’s right, and if we take too long, then none of us will have a room.” Ike knelt at Soren’s side, gazing into his eyes with an intensity that halted Soren’s breath. “Please? You’re the only one who can help us.”

Soren’s expression was irritated, but his cheeks were red. “Oh, very well…”

“Thanks, Soren,” Isaac smiled warmly as Ike stood up again. “I’ll do my best!”

“I won’t let you down,” Ike said seriously.

“You two are impossible… Give me some time to think of a challenge.”

“Can you think of one now?” Ike asked. “The steward will only hold the room for three days.”

“Very well. Then…” Soren closed his book and folded his arms. He took only a moment to think. “I want both of you to bring me a gift. Something that you think I would like. Whoever brings me the best item wins.”

Ike and Isaac locked gazes, and Soren swore he could feel a spark pass between them. “Alright,” they said in unison, and they all but dashed from the library, leaving Soren to shake his head as he returned to his plans.

The two warriors were in step all the way through the castle, past the gate, and down the road leading into town. When they reached the bustling market, though, they paused and regarded each other warily. “I know you’re not one to cheat,” Isaac said. “But I still don’t think we should shop together.”

“Right,” Ike said. “You take that side, I’ll take this one.”

Isaac was happy to oblige, until he realized that Ike’s side of town was the one with the bookstore and the apothecary. “Damn him!” he spat, glaring at his older self’s retreating back. He couldn’t take back his agreement now, though. With a deep breath, he turned and scanned the stores and stalls, his mind racing.

The difficulty of the task became apparent as he wandered across the square. Soren didn’t seem to like anything in particular, other than books – and those he only appreciated for whatever strategic information he could glean from them. A clothing store caught Isaac’s eye, but he passed over it when he saw the frilly gowns and fussy suits on display. He was jostled by the midmorning crowd, feeling lost in a sea of sights and smells and sounds as he looked for something that might interest his strategist.

On the way into town, they had decided on a time limit of one hour. Isaac glanced at the clock tower of the temple; he estimated that he had been prowling around for about fifteen minutes. “OK…” he muttered under his breath, scanning the shop windows and signs. Something practical was in order, he decided, which ruled out the jewelry store. There was a leatherworker operating in an open storefront, his work on display as he labored in full view. Isaac scanned the wallets, purses, belts, hats, and armor before noticing a pair of boots sitting beside an empty armor stand. He elbowed his way through the crowd to take a closer look.

They were a velvety black with silver and gold embellishments, cuffed with a pattern of gold silk. To Isaac’s delight, they appeared to be Soren’s size. He didn’t hesitate to reach for them, but his hand collided with another shopper’s. “Oh, sorry,” he said.

“Think nothing of it, young man,” the lady said genially before grabbing the boots. Isaac’s heart sank.

“I was going to buy those,” he said. “Could I have them?”

She looked him up and down, and then scoffed. “What makes you think you could afford them? These would fit my son perfectly. _You_ should try at the temple; I hear they give shoes to the poor for free.”

Isaac’s eye twitched. “Lady, give me the boots.”

“Awfully cheeky, aren’t we? Someone should teach you a lesson!” She drew an ornate silver foil from her hip. “Come, young man, prove that you want them!”

He drew Ragnell, ready to take her up on her challenge.

Ike was just emerging from a woodworker’s shop when he heard the commotion. There was a shriek of fury, followed by a general clamor. Ike’s hand was on Ragnell’s hilt when he saw Isaac come streaking out of the crowd, his arms wrapped protectively around a black bundle. “Sorry!” he shouted back over his shoulder before disappearing into another group of people. A woman was chasing after him, clutching her dress, which appeared to have been slashed in two and was falling off of her.

“That’s right, he just threw the money at me and ran,” a man was saying to a guard who had come running. “Though, it looks as if he paid more than the boots were worth…”

The vanguard shifted the box under his arm, shaking his head, glad for once that he couldn’t relive his youth.

>>><<<

“Accepted. Thank you, Isaac.”

In Soren-speak, this meant that he was absolutely thrilled with the boots. Isaac resisted the urge to put his fist in the air in triumph as Soren slipped his sandals off and put the boots on in their place. “They fit?”

“Mm. Comfortably, too.” Soren tapped one foot against the floor of the library. “Alright, what did you bring, Ike?”

Ike set his parcel on the table, careful to avoid the maps and notes that were spread across its surface. Curious, Soren peeled off the resin that held the lid shut. Isaac frowned and craned his neck to see inside when the box was opened, and Soren let out a gasp. “Ike…” He reached in and pulled out a clock. Isaac’s frown deepened. It was a rich, dark mahogany, intricately carved, small but with a relatively large gold face. The young commander realized that it must have cost a fortune, and he glanced at Soren nervously. Ruby eyes were shining as he looked up at Ike.

“Thank you.” That was all he said, but his voice was so soft, so reverent, that Isaac felt a stab of jealousy.

"You once told me that you liked clocks," Ike said. "I got you one, once... You were fascinated by it. It kinda looked like this."

Soren smiled, and Isaac's heart sank. Once again, he was reminded that Ike knew Soren better than he did. “He won, didn’t he?” he asked glumly. What had he been thinking, getting Soren _boots_?

“I’m not telling yet,” Soren said, tucking the clock back into its box. “For your next task, you’ll be taking each other on in a contest of strength.”

“A duel?” Ike asked.

“No.” Soren stood and gathered up his papers, stacking them at one end of the table. “Sit down,” he gestured to the chairs opposite each other, and Ike and Isaac obeyed. “This will be an arm-wrestling match.”

“How is that fair?” Isaac grumbled.

“You’re equally matched in strength, despite his… superior size.” Soren eyed Ike’s muscular arms, and Isaac found himself slamming his elbow onto the table.

“Alright, let’s go!” he shouted.

“Shhhhh!” Lyn hissed from the second floor.

“Sorry.”

They faced each other, and Ike brought his hand up to lock with Isaac’s. Isaac could feel the power in the general’s arm. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for what was sure to be a difficult fight.

“Ready?” Soren stood back and raised a handkerchief like a flag. Some other heroes were looking over at them now, curious to see what was going on. The mage paused for dramatic effect, and then brought down the cloth. “Begin.”

The two warriors applied pressure at the same time, starting out lightly to test each other, and gradually increasing their strength. Isaac was surprised to find that his older self was indeed only slightly stronger. With his arm at this odd angle, Ike was having some trouble applying his full force. Isaac smirked and leaned into it, and Ike grunted as he did the same. They were almost evenly matched, and the margin of strength between them was practically negligible.

“What’s going on here?” Jakob, the Nohrian butler, was coming over with a mop in his hand. “This is not a suitable place for such activity.”

“Hey, let them be,” Hector said, rising from the couch near the fireplace. “I want to fight the winner!”

“Stay out of it,” Soren told them all, watching intently as his boyfriends (oh, Goddess, he was never going to get used to that term) struggled against each other.

“What are they fighting over?” Princess Sharena asked, peering in through the doorway.

“Him, I’d wager,” Jakob said dryly, glancing at Soren with a disdainful scowl.

“For love…” Lilina, who had been sitting next to her father, sighed wistfully.

“For honor!” Hector whooped with joy.

“Good grief… This is a library!” Lyn shouted down from the second floor.

Ike and Isaac were deaf to all the background noise. Their foreheads were beginning to sweat, and their hands slipped now and then as they fought for dominance. They never broke eye contact, sizing each other up, looking for any sign of weakness.

Before long, to Isaac’s great relief and surprise, he began to overpower Ike. The vanguard seemed surprised, himself. Then he grunted, leaned further to the side, and pushed with his shoulder. Isaac began to fall back. “No, you don’t!” The commander pushed back, using his own shoulder and a good deal of his upper body.

“Let’s keep it at just the arms, you two,” Hector said, but they were beyond listening. Ike rose out of his chair, hunched over the table, and shoved hard. Isaac had to stumble to his feet to keep from being knocked completely over.

“You son of a…!”

“Watch it!” Ike growled furiously.

“You watch it!”

Now they were practically grappling, pushing straight out with both hands locked together. Soren stepped farther back, amusement plain on his face. “No, don’t pull them apart,” he said as Hector moved forward. “Let’s see what happens.”

Suddenly grabbing hold of Ike’s arm with both hands, Isaac took him off guard and slammed him sideways. Ike’s entire shoulder hit the table with a loud thunk, and Isaac pulled away, both hands in the air, panting hard. “I win!” he declared.

“You little…!” Without any further warning, Ike launched himself across the table. The wind was knocked out of the commander when Ike’s boot hit his chest, and the vanguard followed up by pulling him into a headlock.

“Ch- cheating!” Isaac choked, trying to break Ike’s grip to no avail. “You’re cheating!”

“You’re the cheater!” Ike tightened his hold. “Now, admit defeat.”

“N- no!”

“Admit it!”

“NEVER!”

“Stop it!” Sharena shrieked. “You’re gonna kill each other!”

Soren bent down and picked up Jakob’s mop bucket. “May I?” he asked.

“Please.” Jakob gave a little bow.

Ike and Isaac broke apart when the cold water splashed over them, both spluttering and shaking themselves.

“I’m going to call that a win for Isaac,” Soren said calmly.

“A win for – He cheated!” Ike said furiously.

“Technically, I didn’t set forth any rules. He pinned you, so he wins.” Soren tossed the bucket aside and pulled a spellbook from his robes. The water dried up as he muttered a spell, and Jakob collected the bucket.

“I believe you owe me some water,” he said, and Soren filled the bucket with another spell. Ike and Isaac stood panting and glaring at each other.

“So, this is a contest of some kind?” Hector asked Soren.

“Yes. And the third task,” his eyes gleamed, “is a race.”

“A race?” Ike and Isaac snapped to attention.

“Ike, you got me the best gift.” (Isaac kicked at the floor, muttering, “I knew it…”) “Isaac, you displayed a level of cunning that I wouldn’t expect from you. But now, your victory depends on how well you can navigate this castle.” Soren went to the doorway, and they followed him, tense and waiting for instructions.

“Start here,” he said. “On my mark, you’ll race to the steward’s office. The first to touch the doorknob may ask about the room.”

“We could have done that from the beginning,” Ike said with a groan.

“Do you want me to judge this competition, or not?”

The vanguard faced forward, his expression set in determination.

Soren raised his handkerchief once more.

“Get ready…”

Isaac leaned into a starting stance.

“… Go.”

They were off like a shot, slipping and sliding a bit in their wet boots. “They’re gonna break their necks,” Sharena moaned.

“Then I’ll only have to worry about one,” Soren said.

“You don’t mean that!” she gasped.

The strategist only smirked at her. He went to collect his things from the table and left without another word.

>>><<<

The steward’s office was just off the main hall, which was a considerable distance from the library. Ike and Isaac slid across the marble floors, dodging heroes and servants and guards, pushing each other out of the way, and generally making a spectacle of themselves.

When they reached the courtyard, they split up; Isaac took the path around the training grounds, while Ike diverted to the dining hall. Isaac smirked as he saw the elder’s red cloak disappear around the corner. His way was the shortest, he knew. Ike wouldn’t make it in time.

Then he came to a skidding halt as he met a large group of people queuing up outside of the training grounds, and he remembered: Robin and Rob were auditioning people for the Day of Devotion pageant. The area around the training grounds was packed with heroes hoping to be involved. “My acting skills are unmatched!” Kempf was saying to anyone who would listen.

“Shit…” Isaac looked around and finally decided on doubling back through the courtyard. He dashed inside, wound his way through the corridors, and burst into the main hall just as Ike was coming in from the opposite direction.

They locked eyes briefly before doubling their speed, each running as fast as he could. Someone (Isaac thought it was Felicia, from the look of the maid outfit and the pinkish hair) screamed and dove for cover, and the sound of glass breaking echoed in Isaac’s ears over the sound of his own pounding heart.

They reached the steward’s office just as she was coming out.

“Put my name down for the room!” Ike and Isaac both shouted together. The steward blinked at them, bewildered, before gathering herself up again.

“I’m sorry, but the room has been taken.”

“What?!” they both said, panting hard and staring in disbelief.

“In fact, here comes the new occupant now.”

They turned around to find Soren walking towards them, his new boots tapping against the floor.

“The room is ready for you,” the steward said, extending her hand. Soren took the key from her and pocketed it. “You should find everything you requested already inside. If you need anything else, ask the Head Maid.”

“Thank you.” He turned to Ike and Isaac, who were staring at him with their mouths hanging open. “Shall we?” Turning on his heel, he started out without waiting for them. Stunned, they could only follow him, speechless and incredulous all at once.

“When did you…?” Ike finally spoke up after three flights of stairs.

“When you went shopping,” Soren said.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Isaac asked.

“It was amusing.”

“So, who won?”

“I did.” Soren smirked.

He led them down the third-floor corridor, past rooms occupied by other heroes. “Let’s see…” He came to one with a plaque that read “317” and pulled out the key. It was a spacious room, with a large king bed and a little table with three chairs. There was no balcony, but the large window overlooked the training grounds. A savory smell drifted to them when Soren opened the door.

“Your room smells like steak,” Isaac noted, sniffing the air.

“I ordered dinner.” Three plates were sitting, covered, on the table. “Go ahead and eat. Oh, but first…” He extended his hand, tome open, and dried them the rest of the way.

“Thanks,” Ike said, closing the door behind them. “So, you took the room for yourself… Got tired of boarding with Kempf, huh?”

“You’ve no idea,” Soren groaned, sitting down in one of the chairs. “And since there was only one room, I didn’t think it would be fair for one of you to have it and not the other.”

“Good point.” Isaac sat at the table across from Soren. “Can we really eat now?”

“Go ahead.”

Ike joined them as Isaac uncovered his plate to reveal steak and potatoes. “Oh, Goddess…” He tucked in immediately, earning a smile from Soren. “’Ave I e’er ‘old you ‘at I ‘ove ‘ou?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Soren said with a chuckle.

“Mmph.”

“How did you get her to give it to you?” Ike asked.

“I have my ways.”

“Huh. I guess we’ll have to defer to you on who can come in when,” Ike said. “That’s probably for the best.”

“You’re both welcome whenever you want,” Soren said. “I’ll have keys made for each of you.”

“You mean it?” Isaac looked up from his plate.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” Soren poked at his food with a fork. “This arrangement is… strange. But I think it can work. We just have to set some ground rules. And you two have to agree not to kill each other.”

“As long as he doesn’t cheat again,” Ike said, earning a kick from Isaac under the table.

“You’re still my rival,” Isaac said, biting into a roll with extra violence.

“Don’t be a child,” Ike said.

“Don’t treat me like one!”

“Don’t argue,” Soren said, “or I’ll throw you both out and you can spend the night in the hall.”

As Soren stood up to find a place for his clock, Ike and Isaac shared another look – one of fear. “I think we should have just agreed to take the room together,” Ike said. “He now has the advantage.”

“Yeah…” Isaac swallowed thickly. “I didn’t realize it, but you’re right.”

Situating the clock on the mantle, Soren smirked to himself. “Point: me…” he muttered, satisfied.


	8. On Even Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know, with this story. Sometimes I'm in the mood to write semi-smut, sometimes I want to write zany comedy, sometimes I just wanna angst a bit... I'm sorry if it's inconsistent. T_T

The curtains were a problem.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the color (clear blue, like Ike’s eyes, he thought); and it wasn’t that he was opposed to window dressings in general (they had their uses). But tonight, everything had to be perfect, and Soren had no idea what to do with the blasted curtains.

Leaving them open was perhaps the immediately apparent choice. Somehow, that seemed less intimate, and he didn’t want to give the impression that he and Isaac would be going to bed together. If Isaac wanted that, then Soren would jump into bed without a second thought; but he didn’t want to make his commander – no, his boyfriend – feel pressured one way or another. With the curtains open, they could enjoy a partial view of the sunset, and it would give the restless Isaac some much-needed illusion of space.

On the other hand, people could spy on them through open curtains. One annoying thing that Soren had noticed in the past few days was that the other heroes often exercised their aerial mounts on this side of the castle. He had awoken bright and early one day, opened the curtains, and come face-to-ass with Cormag’s wyvern. Another time, he had entered the room to find Subaki using his window as a mirror. It was quite unnerving, and Soren couldn’t imagine anything more disastrous than some leering face appearing in the window at an inopportune time. Usually, he kept them closed and reveled in his privacy. But was that what Isaac would want?

Gripping the velvet fabric tightly, Soren drew them open, and then closed them again. Then he opened them once more. Then he closed one panel and left the other, swapping sides back and forth, until finally giving up and flinging them open with a sigh of frustration. The last thing he wanted to do was make Isaac feel uncomfortable.

The rest of the room was in order. He held no delusions that Isaac cared one bit about neatness, and so he hadn’t bothered to tidy up his desk and his piles of books and scrolls. He had, however, cleared the table in anticipation of dinner’s arrival later in the evening. The maps and notes that were usually strewn about its surface were now piled next to the wardrobe. There were a few embers in the fireplace, stirred just enough to keep them alive; Isaac was warm-natured, and he hated being too hot. Soren smoothed his hands down his robes, nervous now that he had nothing left to do.

The knock on the door made his heart leap into his throat. He wasn’t exactly sure why; he’d been alone with Ike and Isaac a few times each. He rushed to open the door, and Isaac was standing there, looking just as nervous as Soren felt. Despite that, it was the same rush of warmth that Soren always felt upon seeing Ike, and it put him at ease. “Come in,” Soren said.

Never before had Soren said that to him, Isaac realized as he crossed the threshold into Soren’s domain. The mage had never had a space of his own, for as long as Isaac had known him. From what Isaac knew of his past, he hadn’t had his own space even before then. It was strange to walk into this room and know that he was being invited into such a personal place. It was intimate, almost like he was seeing a new facet of Soren’s personality.

The deep blue carpet contrasted well with the lighter blue draperies, and the bed was covered with a satin bedspread of forest green. That was where the simple elegance of Castle Gloria ended, though. The rest was all Soren – the manifestation of an ever-busy mind, a kind of ordered chaos that made Isaac feel at home. The eggshell-colored walls were absolutely covered with notes, maps, chalkboard containing even more notes, and newly installed shelves to hold piles and piles of books. Whether borrowed from the library or bought in town, Isaac had no clue. He suspected that Soren had squirreled the books away from the library, always thrifty even with a steady wage and provisions. The boots Isaac had given him were propped next to the bed (and Isaac had been pleased to see that Soren had worn them every day since receiving them). The mahogany clock was sitting proudly on the mantel.

“Dinner will be here soon,” Soren said, hiding his nervousness as Isaac looked around the room. The commander took hesitant steps towards the window and glanced out before resuming his observations. Soren wasn’t sure what to say now. Should he ask if the room was to Isaac’s liking? Ask if he wanted to sit?

“Sorry,” Isaac said when he realized that the silence was weighing heavily on them. “I just… I guess I’ve never seen you in a place of your own. How do you like it?”

“It’s adequate.” Soren held his arms crossed so he wouldn’t be tempted to bite his fingernails. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Oh, uh, I’m fine.”

“OK.” Slowly, carefully, Soren breathed in and out. His nerves were getting to him. Feeling as if he could bolt at any moment, he brushed past Isaac and straightened the curtains again. “Do you want these…?” he trailed off as Isaac reached for him. Helplessly, he let himself be pulled closer, his heart trembling in his chest as Isaac’s arms encased him.

“You’re shaking,” Isaac said softly.

Soren buried his face in Isaac’s chest, and noted that there was a slight tremor there, as well. “Ik- Isaac, I…”

Strong fingers rested under his chin and tilted his face upward, and their lips met almost as if magnetically attracted. That now-familiar heat raced through Soren’s body, and he clutched at Isaac’s shirt, feeling as if he were falling. Isaac was bolder this time, if still clumsy. His tongue didn’t seem to be able to settle on one course of action, darting between Soren’s lips and delving deep before pulling back in a way that would be teasing were it not so swift. It was so different from the way the other Ike kissed him, but Soren loved it. He pulled away breathlessly for a moment to look into Isaac’s eyes, thrilled to find the same passion there that he saw in Ike. They were the same, he decided, leaning into another kiss.

When Isaac finally pulled himself away from Soren’s possessive mouth, he took a moment to breathe and to feel his feet on the carpet. It was dizzying, almost, the intensity with which Soren responded to him. Most assumed that the little mage was all ice, but there was passion inside. Isaac had seen it on the battlefield, in his planning, in his burning desire to be useful. Within that narrow breast beat the heart of a dragon, Isaac thought as he kissed Soren’s forehead.

Then he opened his eyes and saw that they were being watched.

Loki was sitting astride her wyvern, not twenty feet away from the window. She should have been cold in that ridiculous bunny outfit, but it didn’t seem to bother her in the least. Munching on popcorn, she gave him a little wave and a sly wink when she saw that he had noticed her.

Soren realized that Isaac was tense. “What is it?” He pulled back, afraid that he had done something wrong, and then saw that Isaac was staring out the window. He turned, looked, and let out a fierce snarl that lent credence to Isaac’s dragon theory. “DAMMIT!” He rushed to shut the curtains tight, nearly ripping them off of the rod, and stood there clutching them, mortified.

“Hey, it’s OK,” Isaac said, stepping over to wrap his arms around Soren’s trembling shoulders. Gently, he worked his hands around Soren’s to break his death grip on the curtains. “I don’t care who sees us together. I want them to know.”

“I knew… should have… damned curtains…” Soren was mumbling incoherently, his face nearly as red as his brand. Isaac bent down and kissed the side of his neck.

“Want me to go fight her?”

“Nnh… That would just… cause more trouble…” Soren was melting into Isaac’s grip once again as the commander carefully kissed and nipped at the exposed skin above Soren’s collar. He worked his way up to lick at the rim of a delicate ear, and then bit down gently, causing Soren to gasp and shudder. Large, calloused hands slid down the slight curve of Soren’s hips, around his abdomen, up his chest. Even through the layers of his clothes, Isaac could feel his nipples hardening. He bit his cheek to keep in a lustful groan, but there was nothing he could do about the hardness that was now pressing into Soren’s back.

There was a knock on the door.

“That’s… that’s probably dinner…” Soren said, failing to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Yeah.” Somehow, Isaac couldn’t find the will to care. He kept at Soren’s neck and ear, his hands still exploring, his fingers itching to burrow beneath the folds of the robe.

“Isaac…”

“Yeah?”

“Dinner…”

“Mmhm.”

The second knock was louder. Reluctantly, the two parted from each other. Soren hid his furious blush with a curtain of dark hair, straightening his robes and walking with a bit of a stiff gait that Isaac mimicked as he went to the table. A servant came in (thankfully, it wasn’t Felicia) with a rolling cart. The plates were laid out, a bottle of chilled wine opened, and the servant left.

The smell of food filled the room, but Isaac was still caught in Soren’s spell. Finally, Soren moved to sit down, and Isaac followed his lead, just now realizing that there was steak in front of him. “Go ahead,” Soren said, and Isaac obeyed, gradually emerging from the fog.

They were quiet as they ate, but as their plates emptied, Isaac found himself fumbling for something to say. Should they talk about what had just happened? Should they talk about what might happen? What was going to happen tonight? Isaac paused with the last bit of potato halfway to his mouth.

Well, there was no way he was going to guess the answer, was there?

“Have you and the other me had sex yet?”

It wasn’t what he had intended to ask. A feeling of horror settled over him, curdling the meal in his stomach, as Soren looked up like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. “I mean, I don’t know anything about that,” he said, beginning to panic and unable to stop himself. _Just shut up! SHUT UP!_ “You probably, uh, well, we have this room now, and we can be alone, and there’s a bed. I just thought…” He set down his fork, looking anywhere but at Soren. “I mean, if you want to do it, we can. I want to. I don’t really HAVE to do it, you know, I don’t mind if we wait. It’s- it’s whatever’s most comfortable for you. I just, uh, I wanted to…”

“I- Isaac… Do you think that I…” Soren’s voice was unreadable; Isaac didn’t dare look at his face. He cleared his throat, suddenly becoming more businesslike. Isaac couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. “Do you think I invited you here so we could do that?”

“No!” Isaac finally looked up and found that Soren was staring at him with a carefully curious expression. His eyes were gleaming in the lamplight. “I don’t think that’s why. I just didn’t want to give you a… I mean, I didn’t want to…” He groaned, banging his elbows onto the table and putting his head in his hands. “Look, I’m not good with this, OK?! I just wanted to… to…”

“No, I… I understand.” Soren’s voice was softer now. Isaac looked up and recognized that thoughtful look. “I’m not really sure about things like this, myself. I have read stories, but…”

“Wait a minute.” Isaac’s hands came down to rest on the table. “ _You_ read romance novels?”

“Only for research.” Soren looked away. “I have no experience with this kind of thing. I don’t know what we should do.”

Relief. Sweet relief. Isaac let out a low chuckle, which Soren echoed. They smiled at each other. “Thank the goddess,” Isaac said. “I thought you would know everything, and here I am, some inexperienced kid…”

“Isaac, I have exactly as much experience as you do,” Soren pointed out.

“So, that means…?”

“I haven’t. Not with _anyone_.” His meaning was clear. Isaac couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved.

“We can take it slow.”

“Yes. I… I think that would be best.”

“But I still…” Isaac coughed into his fist. “Earlier, I…”

“Mmm. Me, too.” Soren’s smile widened just a bit. “We’ll figure it out.”

All of the tension left Isaac then. As usual, they were on the same page. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. With Ike thrown into the mix, it had seemed as if Soren would be privy to whole new worlds of intimacy. It was an immense relief to know that he didn’t have to compete with Ike in that way – at least, not yet. He finished his dinner with gusto.

>>><<<

Isaac left late that night feeling wholly refreshed. They hadn’t done anything more than hold hands after dinner, but there was an excitement bubbling in Isaac’s chest that he just couldn’t quell. Their conversation had been easy, comfortable, and completely natural for the first time since Soren’s arrival. The pressure was off. Isaac felt, finally, that it was OK – that he was doing the right thing.

He ran into Ike as he was coming down the stairs. The vanguard seemed to be on the way to the barracks, still clad in his armor. He gave his younger counterpart a nod in greeting. “How did things go with Soren?” he asked.

“Fine.” Isaac fell into step with him as they walked to the barracks. “You’re having dinner with him tomorrow evening, right?”

“Yeah.”

Their footsteps echoed on the marble tiles. Isaac glanced sideways, at the veritable mountain of muscle and confidence. “We talked about… some things.”

Ike didn’t break stride. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Isaac counted the tiles. “You, uh… Tomorrow, do you plan on…?”

Ike glanced at him, a flash of ice blue in the torchlight. “I don’t know. Depends on what he wants. Did you?”

“No.” Isaac walked a little taller, a little straighter. “I want to take my time.”

“OK.”

Another turn, and out the door into the chilly night air. It was only a short walk to the barracks building. “You don’t…” Isaac struggled to find words that wouldn’t be suspicious if overheard. “You don’t plan on going first, do you?”

“Don’t.” Ike’s voice was soft, warning, as the door swung inward. Thrasir and Laegjarn were sitting in the anteroom of the generals’ quarters, playing chess. They glanced up as the two Ikes entered.

The men’s room was almost empty when Ike and Isaac got inside. It was late, but many of the others were still training, or were spending some downtime at leisure. Hrid was snoring in his bunk as Isaac climbed to the top and settled in, hearing Ike’s bed creak as he fell onto it.

He wasn’t sure if Ike had intended to answer him. Really, he reasoned, it wasn’t any of his business. But that nagging doubt clawed at him. He had felt so confident before, so sure in his feelings. Now, once again, he was unsure. He kicked off his boots, dropped them to the floor, ignored Hrid’s mumbled exclamation of surprise. He didn’t bother to get undressed any further. He just lay on his side, staring at the wall and wondering when this love stuff would get easier. 


	9. The Trouble with Shapeshifters

The first thing that Isaac decided, as he sat by the fountain in the early morning, was that he wouldn’t pry into Ike’s sex life. If he and Soren ended up doing it first, well, so be it. The second thing, he thought, was that he would have to find some way to work up to Ike’s level of experience without actually gaining any experience.

And there was the rub. How did one get good at sex? He leaned back, examining the sky, though it held no answers. Practice was out of the question, because how could you practice sex without just having sex? That left him with two options: Reading about it or asking someone for advice.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure which prospect frightened him more.

There were so few people he could ask. There was Ike, of course, but that would be rather awkward. There was his father, and that would be ten times as awkward. There was Niles, who seemed to know a great deal about sex, and who would no doubt tease him mercilessly. Isaac let out a sigh, kicking at the grass. He couldn’t think of anyone else. He wished that Ranulf were here, because he was almost certain that the wily cat would be able to point him in the right direction.

Ike, or his father. It was a bleak prospect. But he couldn’t very well ask his rival, could he? Of course not. So, Greil it was.

“Commander. I see that something troubles you.”

Isaac looked up. The heron prince was walking towards him, his feet making hardly a dent in the dewy grass. Isaac nodded to him. “Prince Reyson.”

“Forgive my presumption.” Reyson stood in front of him, his white wings nearly glowing in the bright morning sunshine peeking into the courtyard. “I could sense your thoughts from inside, even. Something is weighing heavily on you.”

“Yeah.” Isaac stood, brushing off his rear. “Sorry if I’m bringing down the atmosphere, or something. I just… I have a lot on my mind.”

“I see. May I be of assistance?”

“That’s nice of you, but you don’t have to…”

“Commander.” Reyson’s emerald eyes were piercing. “You did me a great service in that last battle. The least I could do is lend my ear.”

Isaac scratched the back of his head. Reyson was the type who hated being in someone’s debt. “I guess so… I mean, you would know about it, wouldn’t you?” He glanced at the prince, wary but almost hopeful that he wouldn’t even have to say it aloud. Reyson seemed to understand his look, because he focused on him intensely for a moment.

Then his face flared red, and his eyes widened like saucers.

“I… I see.” He cleared his throat. “Hmm. I see.”

“Do you have any advice?” Isaac asked.

“N- not exactly, no.”

“Well, thanks, anyway.” He walked away, partially dejected and partially relieved, barely even saying hello as he passed by Mist in the breezeway.

>>><<<

“Wait until the third date.”

“Huh?” Isaac looked up from the book he was reading – or rather, the book he was trying to read.

It was Selena, the red-haired swordswoman. “I said,” she repeated with a roll of her eyes, “wait until the third date.”

“The… Wait, what?”

“Ugh! Wait until the third date to have sex with him, you dummy!” she sighed. Isaac balked, nearly dropping his book.

“Why… would you say that?”

“I heard that you’re looking for advice on sex,” Selena said, eyeing her long fingernails. “So, I thought I’d help you out. As a favor to Mist – she did my hair the other day. I figured the least I could do is help her brother get laid.”

A strange buzzing was filling his ears. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You really are dense!” She threw her hands up and stomped away. “Gods, you go and try to help someone…”

Isaac tucked the book back into its niche on the shelf, along with the other romance novels. Had that tipped her off? Had she seen him reading them? Perhaps broad daylight wasn’t the best time to do his research, he thought. He slunk out of the library, praying that nobody else had seen him.

But his prayers apparently went unanswered.

“Isaac!” Robin waved to him as she saw him coming out of the library, and Isaac groaned to himself. She had that look that said she had been searching for him. “Just the man I wanted to see. How are you today?”

“Fine. You wanted to see me?”

His heart sank when she glanced around. “Come with me,” she said, taking his arm and leading him right back into the library. “I heard that you were looking for someone to instruct you in the ways of… of love.”

“You heard? From who?!” Isaac pulled his arm out of her grip. She gave him an odd look.

“Mist was telling everyone at breakfast,” she said. “Her exact words were, ‘Isaac was asking around.’ So, I figured that you… Hey, where are you going?” Isaac had already dashed out the door, his cape nearly catching on the handle.

He found her in the garden, tending to the flowers that were to be used for the Day of Devotion festival. “Oh, Ike!” She was one of the few people who couldn’t get used to calling him Isaac. “Good timing. I could use your help… to… Ike?” Her smile fell as she saw the fury in her brother’s gait. He looked like he was coming to torch the place.

“What did you say?!” he demanded as he drew close to her. She clutched her watering can, bewildered by his sudden rage.

“I- what do you mean?”

“At breakfast! What did you say to people?!” Isaac was seeing red. He couldn’t believe that his own sister would talk so freely about his personal life.

“I wasn’t even _at_ breakfast.” Mist puffed up, defiance emboldening her. “What are you talking about?”

“You told them that I was looking for sex advice!” he nearly shouted. She gawked at him, horrified.

“What?! I did not!”

“Robin just told me that you did!”

“Well, she’s mistaken!” She drew herself up to her full height (not very impressive, but it made her feel ten times taller). “I said no such thing. How could you believe that I would?”

“I can’t believe it!”

“Well, then _don’t_!”

“How can I, when the proof is right…” He trailed off, his anger fading to numb horror. “No… Oh, no…”

“Ike?” Mist frowned. “If you’ve got some kind of mad disease, you’d better get to the infirmary. After yelling at me like that, I’m not gonna heal you!”

“Mist… You…” His face was paper white, and it eased some of Mist’s indignation to see how frightened he was.

“What is it?”

“You ate breakfast in the infirmary, didn’t you?”

“ _Of_ _course_ , I did! I was on duty last night!” She glared at him. “What is with you?!”

“It’s Loki.”

“Huh?”

“Loki. She’s…” Isaac slapped himself on the forehead. “I saw you in the courtyard today. But you weren’t out of the infirmary yet… And she saw us… Damn it!”

“Ike? Ike!” Mist huffed as Isaac took off. Dumping the rest of the water over the pink tulips, she chased after him.

>>><<<

“Hi, Soren!” Mist chirped cheerfully as Soren came out of the meeting hall. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

“Certainly.” Soren wasn’t given to friendliness, but for Ike’s sister, he tried to make an exception. He followed her into one of the smaller conference rooms, making sure that nobody took notice of them as he closed the door behind them. “What do you need?”

“Um…” Mist was blushing, looking off and to the side. “I heard that you and my brothers are… involved. Is that true?”

“Yes.” There was no point in denying it, but still, Soren had to fight back the urge to flee. He stood rooted to the spot, willfully unmoving.

“Oh. Um… Well, I just wanted to tell you… Um…”

“What is it?” He kept his voice calmer than he felt. If it involved Ike, then it made him anxious.

“Um, Princess Elincia was talking… She said that…” Mist gulped. “She said that she would take them by any means necessary… Even by witchcraft! So, I…”

Soren had gone paler than normal. “I see,” he said in a small voice.

“I just wanted to warn you… She wants both of them. Ike and Isaac.”

“… Thank you.”

“I’m sorry…” Mist reached up as if to pat him on the shoulder, and then withdrew. Soren was glad that she did. He was trying not to tremble, and he was afraid that the slightest touch would break him into pieces. “I’ll, uh… I’ll leave you alone now. But, don’t worry, Soren. They really love you!”

She left him, and Soren sank into one of the empty chairs, numb to everything but the thoughts swirling around in his head.

He had suspected as much, back in Tellius. Elincia had always looked at Ike with the same expression that most women did, and she certainly had reason to. He was her hero, after all. Everybody believed that they would end up together, even Soren. Living in Askr, in paradise, Soren had almost forgotten that. Now, those feelings came back, bitter and biting in his heart.

His fingers clenched around the table edge, bone white. “No…” he muttered. He wouldn’t allow it. He finally had Ike – had two of him, in fact! He was not going to simply sit back and allow the princess to take what was his.

A jealous rage, a possessive and righteous fury, flared in him. No, he would not give up. He would not simply curl up in his misery and stew in his self-loathing. Ike was his now. He had said so. They both had. That made it alright, didn’t it? This was like any war, and Soren had the defending advantage.

So, it was to be an all-out assault, then.

Standing, smoothing down his robes, settling his emotions, Soren left the room calmly. The heroes who passed him seemed to shudder from the chill that emanated from him. He was on the warpath, cold and calculating, in his element as he sized up his opponent.

He would not lose.

>>><<<

“Have you seen me anywhere?” Mist asked, receiving another shrug as Ephraim moved on. “Ugh… Hey, Sophia, did you see me just now?”

“This is pointless,” Isaac muttered to himself, clutching a fist in his hand. “I’m going to call her out directly. She can’t ignore my challenge, right?”

“Um, it’s Loki,” Mist said as Sophia walked away. “I think that she would do anything but confront you directly.”

“So, what can we do?” Isaac sighed. “Let’s size up our options. Asking around is getting us nowhere. What if we asked the summoner to call for her?”

“Loki only barely does what Serpi says on the battlefield,” Mist pointed out.

“Damn it, you’re right…”

“Does anyone know where she usually stays?”

“I don’t know if she has any friends here.”

“Well, Yarne seems pretty smitten with her.”

“He does?” Isaac raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Mist giggled behind her hand. “I don’t think he realizes that her rabbit outfit is just a costume. He keeps talking about repopulating the taguel race with her.”

“OK, let’s try him.”

Outside they went, walking quickly past a group of heroes hanging around in the courtyard. The garden was similarly populated; it was a lovely day, and most had the day off. “He’s usually out by the greenhouse,” Mist said. “I think he and his mother made a burrow.”

“A burrow, huh?” The taguel, rather like laguz, were fascinating to Isaac. But he only had one question when he spotted the large bunny-man sitting in the grass beside the greenhouse. “Hey, Yarne, right?”

“YAH!” Yarne hopped into the air and stood trembling and blinking wildly at the newcomers. “Jeez, don’t do that!” he said. “You could have killed me!”

“Uh… Sorry.” Apparently, the taguel were even more sensitive than the herons. Isaac lowered his voice as he said, “Have you seen Loki around?”

“Oh, no, she’s hard to pin down,” Yarne said, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I even got her some carrots, but… Uh… I haven’t gotten to give them to her yet.”

“Damn… OK, thanks.”

“Wait! I could probably help track her down,” he said. “I can smell her out, you know.”

“Then why didn’t you do that so you could give her the carrots?” Mist asked.

“You don’t just approach a lady!” Yarne said defensively. “You have to let her come to you. That way, you don’t scare her.”

“Great advice,” Isaac said dismissively. “But could we just go find her? I have some business with her.”

“Sure, OK.”

He transformed and hopped away, across the yard and towards the gardens. Isaac and Mist hurried behind him, running to keep up. He gained considerable distance with each bound, and so they were surprised to turn a corner and bump right into him. He had stopped. “Is she here?” Isaac asked, looking around furiously, but Yarne was hunched as if frightened.

“Ike, look…” Mist tugged on Isaac’s sleeve. He looked to the center of the courtyard and saw Soren and Elincia standing by the fountain. Isaac’s frown deepened. Elincia had drawn her sword.

“Attack me again, and I will have to fight you,” the princess was saying, her voice firm.

“Back off, and I won’t have to attack you,” Soren said. Isaac realized that he was holding one of his tomes open. The shoulder of Elincia’s dress was torn open.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said, defiant and indignant.

“Playing dumb isn’t a good look for you, _princess_.”

“Honestly, I’ve done nothing to you!”

“And I won’t give you the chance,” he snarled. “Back. OFF.”

“Soren?” Isaac rushed over, stopping just short of Soren’s side. The mage glanced at him, but never turned from Elincia.

“This really doesn’t concern you, Ike,” he said.

“My Lord Isaac, I’m not sure why he’s so angry,” Elincia looked at him with pure confusion in her eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Stop it! Stop calling him **your** lord!” Soren’s snarl was nearly a growl now. Something dangerous was flashing in his eyes. Isaac took a step forward.

“Soren, calm down,” he said. “What’s gotten into you? What do you think she’s done?”

Soren was breathing hard now; his pupils were mere pinpoints. His eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. In the heat of battle, even in moments of desperation when the enemy would get the upper hand, Isaac had never seen him like this. It frightened him a little. The mage was staring at Elincia as if he wanted nothing more than to rip her apart.

“He’s never going to be yours.” Soren’s voice was low, threatening. That growl was a rumble now, seemingly coming from somewhere deep in his chest. It put Isaac’s hair on end.

“Who?” Elincia demanded, Amiti flashing as she adjusted her grip. “Do you mean…” Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Are you referring to my Lord I--?”

She couldn’t finish. Enraged, Soren raised his arm, a galdr on his lips. She raised her sword, Isaac reached out.

The spell flew up into the air as Soren was lifted suddenly into Ike’s arms.

“Wha- No!” Soren reached, but the Wind’s Brand tome was now lying in the grass. Ike hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Ike, put me DOWN!”

“Sorry, Princess,” Ike said. “Soren’s not well right now. He’ll be back to apologize to you, later. For now, though…”

Soren howled in rage as he was carried to the breezeway. The little crowd of heroes who had gathered to watch the spectacle now parted to allow Ike to pass. Isaac followed, dumbstruck. Soren was thrashing violently, clawing at Ike’s back, mad with fury. Shock immobilized him when Ike threw him onto the ground, and before he could recover, the vanguard had rolled him right up in the rug that stretched across the entryway to the castle.

“Come on,” Ike said to Isaac as he shouldered the rug – and Soren – and made for the stairs.

“Uh, sorry, Elincia!” Isaac called over his shoulder as he followed his older self and Soren, Soren’s furious snarls echoing in the corridor.

The mage fell silent when they reached the third floor. Isaac didn’t dare say anything, lest he provoke the strange fury once more. He glanced at Soren now and then, worried, but Soren had gone limp and seemed in a daze.

Ike didn’t bother with a key. He wrenched open the door to Soren’s room with pure force and dragged the rolled carpet inside. Isaac closed the door, pushing until the ruined latch finally held. Ike laid Soren on his side on the bed, still rolled up, and flexed his shoulder with a wince.

Unsurprisingly, it was Ike who broke the silence. Isaac was too stunned, and Soren was still in a daze. “Did you get his tome?” he asked as he pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting in it backwards and leaning on the back.

“No.” Isaac cleared his throat. “I can go and get it.”

“Somebody will pick it up.”

Isaac shuffled his feet for a moment. “What was that, just now?” he asked.

“He does that, sometimes. Or, he did, in my world.” Ike reached out and brushed aside a strand of hair from Soren’s face. “That was the first time for you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Isaac said.

“I’m talking to Soren.”

Soren didn’t reply. He didn’t seem to be able to. “Is he OK?” Isaac asked after a moment.

“Just sulking. He’ll be fine in a bit. It was like this the first time in my world.” Soren shifted a little, but his eyes were still cast downward. Isaac thought he could hear an indignant huff.

“So, what set him off?” Asking Soren wouldn’t get him any answers. Isaac addressed Ike as he sat on the edge of the bed, next to but not touching the carpet.

“Jealousy. He only gets like that when he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?” Isaac frowned. “What were you jealous about, Soren?”

“Probably Elincia,” Ike said with a sigh. “He never did like her very much.”

There was another growl, very soft, coming from the depths of the carpet.

“I guess you haven’t learned that she’s not a threat, huh?” Ike smirked and flicked Soren on the forehead. “She got married to Geoffrey, you know. In my world.”

“Mrrph…” That was definitely a disgruntled huff. Isaac put his hand over where Soren’s back was.

“Why would you be jealous of her?” He would have laughed, had he not been so shaken.

“She had a crush on me during the first war,” Ike said simply, and Soren let out another growl. “Hey, easy.” He patted Soren’s head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m yours, OK?”

“She did?” Isaac frowned. “I didn’t realize.”

“Titania explained it to me, a long time after.”

“Huh…” He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was weird, he thought. Weird and a little uncomfortable.

“Dragons…” Ike spoke softly, slowly, never halting as he stroked Soren’s hair, “are really possessive. A dragon only loves once in his entire life, and he loves fiercely.” Soren’s eyes had gone wide again. “When they feel like their territory is being threatened, they become enraged. It’s really hard to divert them from the target.”

Soren was now looking directly at Ike, fearfully. The vanguard brushed his thumb over Soren’s brand, and the mage shuddered. “It’s OK. He’s me, remember?”

“Are you saying that Soren’s laguz heritage comes from the dragon tribe?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah. We found out shortly after we left Crimea.”

“When was that?” Isaac frowned.

“I’ll tell you later. But I already told Soren this, because he said he wanted to know.” Ike glanced over at his younger self. “I thought it was time that you knew, too.”

“OK.” Isaac nodded. “Does it… Is there anything about it that endangers him?”

“No.”

“Then, fine.” Isaac patted Soren’s back through the rug. “Soren, I told you, I don’t care who your parents were. You’re still you. And, uh, some things are making sense, now that I think about it.”

“You noticed the purring?” Ike smirked, and Isaac nodded. Soren looked mortified.

“Would you let me out now?” Soren’s voice was a little rough.

“Heh. Fat chance.” Ike leaned back on the chair. “I know how you get when you’re in a jealous rage. I’m not letting you out until I can say ‘Elincia’,” Soren growled, “without you doing… well, that. Once you're calm, you can go apologize. And don't give me that look - you know you were in the wrong.”

“Speaking of that, why did you attack her?” Isaac asked.

“She… She said that she was going to take you both from me.” Soren’s voice was transitioning once again to a snarl. “Mist warned me that she was going to use witchcraft…”

“Wait, Mist did?” Isaac’s eyebrows shot up. “When, just now?”

“Just before I cornered the—Mph!” Ike covered his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

“Shit…” Isaac stood up. “We have to find her. That Mist is an imposter.”

“Loki?” Ike said.

“Yeah.”

“No kidding. I was chasing after her when I heard the ruckus in the courtyard.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. Only, she wasn’t Mist. She was Soren. And she was trying to seduce Lilina.”


	10. Miss Rabbit's Wild Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the thrilling (ahem, slapdash) conclusion to the last episode! With some fluff at the end.

“Ike.”

“No.”

“Ike…”

“No.”

“Ike!”

Ike didn’t answer, focusing instead on dragging the rug down the stairs without jostling Soren too much. Soren glared balefully at Isaac, who gave a noncommittal shrug as he followed behind. They had all agreed that being separated now was not the best idea. Loki was still on the loose. However, Ike had insisted on keeping Soren tightly bound within the carpet. Despite Soren’s protests and Isaac’s entreaties on their boyfriend’s behalf, the mage remained in his fabric prison, immobile except for his head and neck.

“THERE YOU ARE!” The bellowing cry didn’t come as a shock to either of the three. So much had happened today that they weren’t surprised in the least to see Hector stomping towards them, the gleaming lance Maltet trained on the Soren burrito over Ike’s shoulder.

“Hector,” Ike said. “I guess you heard.”

“Let me at him!” The furious lord charged as quickly as his heavy armor would allow. “Lay him at my feet so I can crush him!”

“No,” Ike said. “Ignoring that I would never do that, he’s not the one you want. It’s Loki.”

Hector slowed but didn’t stop. Maltet pointed toward the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

“Loki’s the one who went after Lilina,” Isaac explained. “She’s been causing trouble all day. She impersonated my sister, too.”

Isaac and Ike had both worked with Hector ever since they had been summoned to Askr. They shared a battlefield camaraderie tested and proven time and time again. Hector believed them at once, needing no proof of their claims. He shouldered his lance. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s find her, then. Where do you plan to start looking?”

“Ike! Ike!” Mist came running towards them, Soren’s tome under her arm. “Marth went to get Serpi. She said she would put a stop to… Is that Soren?”

“Hello, Mist.” Soren said conversationally. “Any chance you could prove that you’re not Loki in disguise?”

“Good point.” Ike looked her up and down. “Can you prove it?”

Mist sighed and walked over to Isaac. Leaning into him, she whispered in his ear, and he flushed and nodded his head. “It’s her,” he said.

“How do you know?”

Isaac leaned in to whisper into Ike’s ear, and the vanguard’s eyes went wide. “How did you even find out about that?” he asked her incredulously.

“Hehe, I saw a lot of things,” Mist said, sticking her tongue out at him. “You hid it from Father, but you couldn’t hide it from me!”

“What is it?” Soren asked. Ike and Isaac pointedly ignored him.

“Now, where could she be?” Ike wondered.

“Oh, let’s ask Yarne!” Mist said.

“Let’s go,” Isaac agreed. The little troupe stepped out into the courtyard once more. “Ugh, now where did _he_ go?”

“He probably hid after all that excitement,” Mist said. “What was that about, anyway?”

“Tell you later,” Ike said. “Right now, we need to find Loki.”

Elincia was sitting at the fountain, gingerly touching the edges of her torn dress. She looked up when the little group came out. “Oh, my Lord Ike…” she stood up and went to greet them. From within the rolled carpet, Soren’s growl started up again. “Goodness, what did you do to him?”

“He’s not a threat for now,” Ike said. “Did you see where Yarne went?”

“Yarne? He dashed off earlier. The poor thing was frightened, I think.” She stepped closer. “My Lord Ike, I just wanted to say… Thank you for stepping in and saving me. Again.”

“No problem,” Ike said. He bumped his shoulder to jolt Soren when the mage snarled.

“Are you sure he is quite alright?” she asked.

“He’ll be fine. Now, we have to find Loki.” He stepped forward, and Elincia took Isaac’s arm. Soren’s snarl became a hiss.

“I’ll help you look,” she said. “We cannot have her stirring up trouble.”

“Is that so, _Princess Elincia_?” Soren asked coldly. Elincia drew closer to Isaac.

“Soren, it was Loki who told you those things,” Isaac said. Soren was staring at the princess with deadly intent.

“Yes, I would never dream of doing anything to harm you…” Elincia gripped Isaac’s arm tighter. Soren’s eyes narrowed.

“Wouldn’t you? It was you who said those things, after all.”

“On my honor,” Elincia said earnestly, “I would never attempt any underhanded methods in the war of love.”

“I see. And how did you know that was what Loki told me?”

From somewhere behind Isaac, a woman cleared her throat. He turned to see Elincia.

Another Elincia, a shawl over her torn dress, glaring at the Elincia who was holding onto him.

“That means…!”

Isaac spun around too late. The false Elincia had let him go and was now dashing across the courtyard. “After her!” Hector shouted, charging, and Ike hefted Soren and gave chase. Isaac, Mist, and the real Elincia followed.

Loki changed as soon as she hit the garden path. She became a gray rabbit and disappeared into the shrubs. “There she goes!” Mist shouted, pointing. The party ran after her.

“Isaac! Mist! Go around the far side!” Ike barked. “Hector, stand guard at the courtyard! Elincia, ahead!” Burdened as he was, she easily outstripped him. Isaac and Mist disappeared around some hedges. Hector planted his feet, his lance at the ready.

“Ike, let me out!” Soren begged. “I can catch her!”

Just then, Loki burst from the shrubs at the edge of the garden wall and hopped over the stone divide. “No time!” Ike hoisted Soren into Isaac’s arms as Isaac came running from the other side. “Here, free him!”

“Got it!” Isaac took Soren and dragged him after Ike, who vaulted over the wall and went chasing after the rabbit down the hill.

“Hurry, get me out of here!” Soren demanded. To his horror, Isaac smirked at him.

“Oh, darling, I don’t think so,” said Loki’s voice. She carried him with surprising ease towards a tree at the edge of the garden, lifted him with her over the wall, and propped him upright against the trunk.

Soren’s eyes darted around. The others were far gone. “So, what’s your plan?” he asked, keeping his tone cool and disdainful. “Going to kidnap me?”

“Oh, nothing so dramatic as that,” Loki said, and it was so creepy to hear her voice coming from Isaac’s lips that Soren couldn’t hold back a shudder. “I’ll just make my escape…” She walked back to the garden, jumped the fence, and walked away, whistling.

“Damn!” Soren began struggling, trying to free himself. When he saw Roy coming towards him over the field, he could have cried from relief. “I need your help,” he said as the young fighter came within earshot.

Roy’s expression was twisted in loathing.

“Lilina told me what you did, you sick bastard!”

Soren sighed. “That wasn’t me, it was Loki. Now free me so I can warn…”

Roy had no plans of freeing Soren. He ran at him, tackled him – carpet and all – to the ground. They both hit the grass, Roy a little harder than Soren, and the redhead climbed atop the pile of carpet. Soren gasped for breath. “R- Roy, listen to me…!”

“No, you listen to me! Don’t you ever say anything like that to Lilina again, understood?” His eyes were flashing, blue flames burning almost white hot. “I don’t know who rolled you up in this rug, but you deserve it! I should drag you to the forest and leave you there!”

“Roy…!”

They were rolling. Roy only realized it as he nearly toppled off of the carpet. He held on, gave a cry as it trundled over him, and then yelped when they hit the crest of the hill and picked up speed. “Let! Go!” Soren shouted at every turn. “Let! Go! You! Idiot!”

“Owowowowow!” Roy was clinging for dear life, bumped and flattened and jolted, over grass and leaves, twigs and small rocks.

They narrowly avoided bowling Ike and Elincia over. Shouting as they were, they were easily avoided, and the two stepped aside neatly as the red blur came bouncing to a stop with Roy beneath it.

“Soren?!” Ike pushed at the carpet, realized that Roy was holding it shut, and pried him off before unrolling it. Soren sprawled onto the grass.

“Where in the world did _he_ come from?” Elincia gasped, holding onto the rabbit that had gone limp in her arms.

“Soren? Soren, wake up.” Ike shook him gently. Soren gave a groan.

“Dizzy…”

“Ugh…” Roy moaned, still halfway buried in the rug.

“What happened?” Ike pulled Roy up by the scruff of his collar.

“Rolling…” Roy mumbled. “So many rocks…”

Ike let out a heavy breath. “Whatever that was about, we got Loki.” He picked Soren up; the mage’s head lolled as if he were drunk.

“Not Loki…”

“What?”

“That’s…” Soren blinked the dizziness from his vision. “That’s not… Loki… Just a rabbit… Loki was… Ike… Urg…”

“How can we be sure?” Elincia asked, holding the rabbit more tightly.

“I’m gonna punch… Gonna punch…” Roy took a loopy swing at midair, spun on his heel, and fell back onto the ground.

“Dammit…!” Ike looked up the hill, where Isaac and Mist were running to join them.

“We couldn’t – wait, you got her!” Mist cried in relief.

“It might not be her,” Elincia said solemnly.

“It’s not her,” Soren said, sounding as if he were about to puke.

“I got her!” Hector shouted from atop the hill. They all looked up and saw that he was holding another Isaac by the arm, who was struggling to get free.

“So, it’s true!” Elincia dropped the rabbit. The poor creature froze, trembling, and she bent to pat it soothingly before urging it on into the woods.

“Wait… She was Ike?” Mist groaned. “Or…”

“How do we know that’s actually her, and not me?” Isaac fretted, and Soren began to laugh.

“Only you, Isaac…” the mage snorted.

“Hey, there are two Isaacs…” Roy said, sitting up, his head still whipping around like he was in a whirlpool. “Cool...”

“I caught her trying to get back into the courtyard,” Hector said, walking heavily down the incline, his boots sliding a bit under the weight of his armor. The duplicate Isaac, docile now that the jig was up, came along without protest. “He” was smiling demurely as they came up to the others. “I knew it was her immediately.”

“How?” Ike asked, setting Soren on his (mostly steady) feet.

“Oh, that was easy,” Hector laughed. “I figured that there was no way the real Isaac would try to seduce me!”

>>><<<

They settled in for the evening, ready to forget all about the day’s events. Soren had scrubbed the dirt and leaves from his hair; Ike had helped Hector deliver Loki to Alfonse; and Isaac had mostly forgotten the image of himself trying to make a move on Hector. The three of them let out weary sighs almost at the same time. Ike and Isaac were sitting at the table; Soren had flopped onto the bed, his hair still damp and unbound.

“Well, that was… something.” Isaac said at last, watching the golden light of afternoon fade to orange on the ceiling.

“Never a dull moment,” Soren murmured, his arm thrown over his face.

Isaac cleared his throat. “I should go. You two had a dinner date, right?”

“Honestly?” Soren glanced over at him. “I feel ready to fall asleep.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” Ike said, his hands clasped under his chin, staring past Isaac and beyond the distant mountains.

“Still, that’s not fair,” Isaac said. “We got to be alone last night, so now it’s your turn.”

“Isaac,” Ike said.

“What?”

“Shut up.” The vanguard closed his eyes.

“Why is everyone always telling me to shut up?” Isaac lamented, staring back up at the ceiling.

Ike didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up, the chair scraping against the carpet. “Come on.” He dragged Isaac up by the arm, earning a surprised grunt as he all but threw the younger man onto the bed. Soren sat up, confused, as Ike settled onto his other side, crossing his arms behind his head.

“What are you doing?” Soren asked, and then yelped when Ike’s arm encircled his shoulders and pulled him down into the broad chest. The mage clutched at Ike’s shirt, outwardly calmed but inwardly frazzled.

“We’ve had enough shenanigans for today,” Ike said. “Let’s just call it a night.”

“It’s not even sunset,” Isaac pointed out.

“I could sleep for a week after that.”

Soren’s eyes were drifting closed already. It was quite comfortable, he had to admit, pillowed on Ike’s solid shoulder and warmed by the larger man’s arm over him. He was wearing his bath robe, and Ike and Isaac had stripped down to their basic clothes. When Isaac rolled over to budge up behind him, Soren sighed and allowed himself to relax fully. Isaac drew the coverlet over them and buried his face in Soren’s hair, giving in without further protest.

“Oh, there was some trouble after we turned Loki in…” Ike mumbled, already drifting off. “Some lady was yelling at Alfonse, demanding to know where you were, Isaac.”

“What?” Isaac cracked an eye open. Soren let out a soft snore, dead to the world.

“She claimed that you owed her for a rapier and a dress.”

“She found me?”

“Hn. Don’t worry… I paid for them…”

“Oh… Thanks.” Isaac didn’t know what to say.

Ike snored in response. Isaac closed his eyes, breathing in Soren’s scent and wrapping his arm around the mage’s waist, not caring if he was touching Ike’s side, too. It was cozy, he thought, as he drifted off. Cozy and warm. And safe.


	11. A Truce - Mostly - Probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, the tone of this fic has been weird to me - oscillating between romance and drama to my silly attempts at humor. Well, this chapter is like the entire fanfic rolled into one. It's a little dramatic, a little funny. I hope it comes together OK. I know where this all ends up, but getting there... Well, hopefully the road isn't too bumpy.

Waking up in Soren’s bed was surprisingly… normal. Isaac hadn’t really thought about it, but if he had, he would have expected it to be like something in one of those awful romance novels he’d tried to read. The pale morning sunlight falling gently over Soren’s peaceful face; birds twittering sweetly; roses – there was always something about roses, right? The smell or the feel of their petals… Isaac wasn’t sure. But that was not what he woke up to the next morning, after falling into a heavy and restful sleep in Soren’s room.

When he drifted into consciousness, he was pushed up against something warm. Slightly smelly, but warm. Soren needed a bath, he thought as he nuzzled closer. Then he opened his eyes.

That was not Soren.

“Eugh!” He sat up, rubbing at his face to get the smell out of his nose. He had been sleeping with his arm thrown over Ike’s chest, and Ike’s armpit in his face.

“Are you finally awake?”

Soren’s voice was coming from somewhere nearby, but not from in front of him. He rolled over to face Soren, who was sitting at the table with a mound of paperwork. “You could have woken me,” he said, blowing forcefully out of his nose.

“I thought it was cute, Ikey-poo,” Soren cooed in false adoration. Ike groaned.

“It’s just weird when you wake up hugging yourself.”

“At least your hands were above the blanket.”

Isaac pulled off his socks, rolled them up, and tossed them at Soren, who deflected them with a lazy wave of his hand and a muttered gust spell – nothing powerful enough to require a tome, but sufficient to ruffle Isaac’s hair as his socks blew into his lap. “You’re surprisingly playful this morning,” Isaac said, retrieving his socks and putting them back on.

“Mm. Am I?”

The commander leaned back, observing for a moment. Soren was focused on his work, but his posture was lax, and his lips were curved just slightly into the hint of the beginnings of a smile. At least, Isaac thought so. He wasn’t frowning, so that was something, in any case. The heavy curtains were drawn, concealing any light that might have come in through the window. The mage’s work was lit by a dim lantern. The flickering flame sent the shadows dancing on the ceiling, on Soren’s face, in his eyes.

“What is it?” Soren glanced at him.

 _“You’re beautiful,”_ he wanted to say. Instead, he said, “What time is it?”

“Almost seven o’clock.” A quick glance at the mantel clock confirmed for Isaac that Soren was right, but he didn’t need to check. Soren always seemed to know what time it was.

The tactician went back to his work, but he was conscious of Isaac still watching him. It made him nervous, in a good way. He tried to keep his breaths in check, tried to settle the wild fluttering in his chest. Any time Ike looked at him, his heart became like a bird trapped in a too-small cage. The longer Ike looked, the smaller the cage became.

“I sent for breakfast,” Soren said, unable to stand it any longer.

“Good. We missed dinner last night.”

“Mm.” A slight tremble in his hand as he wrote out a quick note. Soren cursed himself. _Keep it together!_

“You didn’t have to close the curtains,” Isaac said after a moment.

“I didn’t want the light to wake either of you. Yesterday was… eventful.”

“We need to get up, anyway.” Isaac reached out with his foot and tapped Ike’s leg, which flopped limply. “Hey, get up. Breakfast’s on its way.”

“Let him sleep.” Soren didn’t look up, but Isaac could see his little smile. The commander stood and stretched, wincing as his back popped.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few hours.”

Isaac glanced again at the clock. “Only you could be up for so long without making a sound.”

“I did get dressed,” Soren pointed out.

“Exactly.”

Isaac excused himself to the adjoined restroom. When he returned, Ike was sitting up groggily. “About time,” Isaac said.

“I was awake,” Ike mumbled. “I heard breakfast mentioned. Where’s it?”

“It will be here soon,” Soren said.

“I guess we can open these up.” Isaac stepped to the draperies and flung them wide, blinking in the burst of pale sunlight coming in from the northeast.

Looking back took Isaac to another time and place. He saw himself, older, wiser, getting out of bed a little more slowly than before, popping his back in the same place as always. Soren sitting at the table, buried in work as usual. The brief glance the two gave each other, where Ike’s fierce gaze softened, and Soren’s shoulders relaxed.

This was his future, he realized. This was what he had to look forward to. And it made him feel jittery all over, like somebody had poked him under the arm (the only place where he was ticklish, a secret that he would take to his grave). When Soren was looking at Ike with that gaze, he was looking at both of them. No matter who he was with, he saw them both in each other.

So much for his rivalry.

“I’ve been thinking,” Isaac said later over breakfast.

“Finally,” Ike said. Isaac kicked him under the table.

“What have you been thinking about?” Soren asked.

“Well, you know… about us.” He pushed his eggs around the plate with his fork. “I think I’m OK with, uh, whatever it was you said, Soren. About the three of us being together? Poly… Polysomething.”

“Polyamory,” Soren said, focusing on his coffee. “And I don’t think it really applies to us.”

“Whether it does or not, I’m in.” Isaac fixed Ike with a hard stare. “If you’re still sure you don’t want to fight me for him.”

“That’s fine,” Ike said calmly, hardly slowing down as he ate. “I told you, I don’t care what you do.”

“Soren?”

“I…” the mage’s voice caught in his throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Hn, no.” Isaac reached across the table and took Soren’s hand in his. Soren jolted but didn’t pull away, staring at their intertwined fingers as if he still couldn’t believe that it was happening. “You have a say in this, too. Your… What you feel is important to me. Us.”

“Ike…”

“Yeah, don’t hold back if you think this is too weird.” Ike took his other hand. “If you need space, we’ll honor that.”

Soren bit back the emotions welling in his chest. He felt elated, confused, fearful, loved… So loved. Ike’s and Isaac’s hands were warm, their faces patient and sincere. “I just…”

It _was_ weird. Anyone could see that the whole situation was bizarre. But he had them, the same but different, one person in two forms. “The only place for me to be is by your side,” he said, looking between them steadily. “I cannot choose between you. I… I couldn’t.”

Isaac smiled slightly, and Ike nodded. “Then, let’s do this,” the vanguard said.

“Yes,” Soren echoed, his smile radiant. “Let’s.”

>>><<<

Loki had been posted to guard the Aether Fortress, and she wasn’t happy about it. Typically, the heroes were on rotating shifts every week; Loki was to remain for a few months. She couldn’t return without the summoner’s help, and the summoner wouldn’t bring her back until Alfonse had determined that she was sufficiently punished. Isaac should have felt better about this, but the damage had been done. As little as he cared about what others though of him, it was still quite embarrassing to have his comrades constantly bombarding him with advice and questions.

Niles was chief among them. The archer had taken to writing down “helpful hints” on small note paper and leaving them in Isaac’s gear or other places where he was sure to find them.

“Here’s a tip: the tip is the most sensitive portion.”

“Did you know that nipples are delicious? Really makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“A little foreplay goes a long way, but nobody likes a tease.”

All were signed with hearts. At first, Isaac had been utterly confused; but Rob recognized the handwriting immediately. “It’s Niles’,” he’d said. “We still get some questionable notes in the suggestion box from time to time.”

Besides that, though, things were going rather well between him and Soren. He and Ike now had keys to his newly repaired lock. Whenever Isaac had free time, he spent it in the mage’s room, sometimes with Ike there, sometimes without either of the other two. It was soothing to be among his beloved’s things, to breathe in his scent and look around at the notes posted everywhere and picture him puzzling over tactics late into the night. More often than not, he didn’t have to merely imagine it; he and Ike spent the night frequently. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up and find Soren still working. Then he or his older self would have to carry the mage to bed, earning feeble protests that always ended in cuddling.

He wasn’t really sure when he noticed it – the melancholy way Ike looked at Soren, when he thought that he wasn’t being observed. Perhaps he had seen it before, but he started to question it when Soren was patching up Elincia’s dress (he could have paid to have it done, but his sense of pride and thrift demanded that he do it himself by way of apology). It was evening, and the lamps were burning already to give Soren extra light by which to work. Isaac lay on his stomach on the bed; Ike was on the floor by the fire.

There was something odd in the way Ike had looked at Soren then. It was almost as if he were grieving for a brief moment. Isaac frowned. He wouldn’t have noticed, if he hadn’t been studying Ike’s posture and wondering if he had always hunched like that when he sat down. “Something wrong?” Isaac asked.

“Huh?” Ike glanced at him, his face stoic once again.

“You looked like…” Isaac hesitated. “Never mind.”

Ike turned back to Soren, who said, “I did notice you staring at me. What, you didn’t think I knew how to sew?”

“No, I know.” Ike rested his elbow on his knee, leaning forward with a brief half-smile. “You used to repair my clothes all the time. Mist taught you.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow at that. “I never knew. When did that happen?”

“After joining the company,” Soren said. “But I don’t remember ever using this skill before, except on my own things.”

“You started after the first war,” Ike said. “After we pledged to each other, it was almost like you were insulted if anyone else touched my clothes. You wanted to do it yourself.”

“Hmm.” Soren continued his work, the slight flush on his cheeks barely noticeable in the red glow of sunset and the flickering lamplight.

“Will you tell me what it was like?” Isaac asked. “Being together, I mean. Did anyone have a problem with it?”

“Mist was thrilled. So was Titania,” Ike said. “I think Shinon was the only person who really had an issue with it. But that’s Shinon for you.”

“He’s one to talk, after we found him with Gatrie that time, passed out right on the dining table…” Soren snorted under his breath, and Ike let out a genuine laugh. Isaac had to smile, too.

“You never did let him live that down.”

The slight arch in Soren’s brow indicated that he was quite pleased with his future self.

“Boyd didn’t mind?” Isaac asked.

“At first, he thought it was strange. But you know Boyd; he said as long as Soren made me happy, then he had no reason to say anything.”

“I’m surprised that Mist didn’t force us into a proper wedding,” Soren said.

“She didn’t?” Isaac said.

“No, but she threatened it a few times,” Ike said. “If the second war hadn’t broken out, she probably would have had us march straight to Mainal Cathedral to make it official. Even if they don’t do that sort of thing, she would have pestered them until they did.”

Isaac chuckled, because he could picture his sister doing exactly that. “What about after that?”

Ike looked away from Isaac, into the crackling fire. “No time, after.” His voice had become heavy again.

“Is that when you left Tellius?” Isaac asked, pushing his luck.

“… Yeah.”

Feeling bold, Isaac asked, “Why did you leave, anyway? I always wanted to know.” He had asked many times, actually. He half expected to receive no answer, as before. But Ike seemed in an unusually talkative mood. Perhaps it was Soren’s presence, or the cozy warmth of the fire, or the heavy meal in his stomach.

Ike’s voice was low, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t stand the fame anymore. Everywhere I went, I was thanked, or sometimes cursed. Stared at. They never left me alone. I couldn’t… escape the memories.”

Soren’s stitching had slowed. He looked somber. “What about Mist? The mercenaries?”

“They didn’t need me around,” Ike said grimly. “I mean that – they had a lot of trouble because of my reputation. We started getting swordsmen and women, coming to challenge me… Mist was almost kidnapped, once. People were disappointed when they’d hire us and then I couldn’t show up to personally handle their contracts. We were always getting visitors, trying to buy us out and make us into a private militia. It was…” He sighed heavily. “It was a mess.”

Isaac folded his arms and rested his head on them, staring hard at his older self. “What about Soren?” he asked softly. “You sometimes talk like you brought him with you, but then you say that you traveled alone. You couldn’t have left him behind, right?”

Isaac knew even before he spoke that he had pushed too far. Before he could apologize, Ike said, “There was nothing for me in Tellius. That’s why I left. I don’t know what I was looking for, but… I guess it doesn’t matter now, right?”

That sinking feeling he had often had before Soren was summoned returned to the younger Ike. His older counterpart looked so haunted.

A knock at the door effectively quelled any further conversation. Ike stood to answer, and Isaac could see large tawny wings beyond the doorway. “King Tibarn,” Ike said, a little taken aback. “What brings you here?”

“I heard that the young Ike is here,” Tibarn replied, glancing past Ike’s shoulder. “That you, there? Got time for a chat?”

“Uh… Sure.” Isaac stood and glanced at Soren, who gave him a worried look as he passed Ike and joined the hawk king in the hallway.

“I’ll have him back before too long,” Tibarn said, making Isaac bristle a little; he wasn’t a child going on a play date. “Until next time, General.”

“Alright,” Ike said. He saw them off before closing the door.

“Your Majesty?” Isaac glanced over at Tibarn questioningly, but the hawk shook his head.

“Wait ‘til we’re outside,” he said. “Don’t wanna be overheard.”

They walked to the third-floor balcony, out into a burst of unseasonably warm air and the oncoming night. Tibarn stretched his wings luxuriously, shaking his feathers in a contented way. Isaac crossed his arms and leaned against the stone railing. “Was there something you needed to see me about?” he asked.

“There is,” Tibarn said, looking down at him with a sharp eye. “I realize I’m probably not the person you’d expect to hear this from, but I’m here to offer you some advice.”

Isaac frowned. “Advice?”

“Reyson told me about your little dilemma. He and I both agreed that we owe you a great deal, so we should do all we can to help. As a sign of friendship.”

Isaac’s face paled. 

“Where I come from, it falls to the older generation to teach the younger. Our ways are different from yours, but there might be something I can help with, anyway. Besides, you’re courting someone with laguz ancestry. There might be something useful in my words.”

“That’s really not…”

“So!” Isaac was reminded of the hawk king’s legendary stubbornness. He seemed determined to plow forward, no matter what. He also seemed completely unfazed by the subject matter. “First thing’s first! Do you have a suitable nest?” At Isaac’s dumbstruck expression, he clarified: “I mean, a room. A place for mating activities.”

“M- mating activities?!”

“It seems your little strategist – sorry, mate – has secured a place. That’s fine. But you need to do your part! Make it nice for him. Bring in some nice foliage, or whatever he likes. Those of the dragon tribe are partial to shiny things. Maybe hang some gold coins or something.”

There was a very odd buzzing in Isaac’s ears now, and he had experienced it before. He was so embarrassed that it was almost like his mind was trying to self-destruct. He couldn’t even formulate a response.

“Once you’ve got the place nice and cozy, it’s time to put the moves on him. Food tends to work best, when you’re starting out. But you know, with dragons, they like to hoard things.”

“King Tibarn…”

“And you can’t go wrong with fruit! Most people don’t know this, but dragons like fruit. Sweet ones, mainly. I think that’s also common with you beorc, is it not?”

“Uh…”

“You might want to present it with a little flair,” Tibarn continued, spreading his wings as if to demonstrate. “Maybe flex a little, if it’s something heavy like a salmon. Or you could throw it up in the air and catch – well, you couldn’t do it quite like we do, but I’m sure you’d manage. Show off a bit. If he accepts, then you’re cleared for takeoff.” Tibarn’s smirk widened, and he lowered his voice a bit. “Between you and me, Reyson goes wild for a little feather rustling. One shake of these wings, and he’s practically begging to be mounted.”

Isaac really, really wished that he didn’t know that.

“Of course, you don’t have feathers to rustle. I guess you could use that fur on your head. Ah, well, anyway! Once you’ve got him warmed up and receptive, it’s time to show what you’re made of. Now, you might finish a bit early the first time, but that’s OK, it happens. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” He slapped Isaac on the back, and Isaac wished that the impact would snap his spine and put him out of his misery. “Oh! And lube. Lube’s important. Even with females, you gotta use lube. They sell some stuff in town specially for that.”

“They… Huh?”

“Us hawks usually just get by without, but, well, I’m not gonna scoff at foreign inventions. Even if they were made by beorc.” He grinned.

Finally, a break in the stream of conversation. “Thanks!” Isaac blurted out. “Thanks a lot. But I gotta…” He was backing away already.

“Are you sure you got it?” Tibarn asked. “I could give you some positions to try, for the first time…”

“No, that’s alright!” Isaac backed into the door, jolted, opened it. “I’ll see you – uh, good night, King Tibarn. Just… Thanks! That’s really… Thanks!”

It would take the better part of the night to scrub that conversation from his memory. Isaac took his time returning to Soren’s room. He used his key, and found Ike and Soren locked in an embrace together, in front of the fireplace. Soren glanced at him as he entered, but Ike held the mage tight, bent over to bury his face in the crook of Soren’s neck.

“What did he want?” Soren asked, still holding onto Ike.

“Uh… Nothing.” Isaac glanced at Ike, then back to Soren, questioning. Soren turned away, his expression guarded. Ike seemed to have fallen asleep on his feet, but when Isaac went to sit on the bed, he stood up and let Soren go. His face was stern once more.

“We have patrol tonight,” the elder reminded Isaac.

“Yeah. Give me a minute.” He watched Ike give Soren a brief peck on the forehead before leaving the room. Once Ike’s heavy steps faded on the carpeted hallway, Isaac turned to Soren. “What was that about?”

Soren’s gaze lingered on the door. “Nothing,” he said, returning to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> effin_bs, you called it. :P Surely, nobody thought that Reyson would keep anything from Tibarn, right?


	12. Wherein There Is Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX WARNING! This chapter has sex in it. Sex, sexy sex. Final warning. SEX.

Since the night of Tibarn’s “informative” talk, Isaac had been puzzling over Ike’s strange behavior. Soren refused to talk about it, and Ike always avoided the subject with a dogged determination that would have put off a lesser man. But if there was one thing in which Isaac had complete confidence, it was his stubborn nature. In that regard, Ike had nothing on him; age and experience had opened Ike’s mind a bit, but Isaac was still the same mule-headed boy who had once rammed into a wall five times because he was _sure_ there was a door there.

Now, he set to work on wearing down his older counterpart’s resolve. “What happened in your time?” Isaac asked, and Ike told him to mind his business and turned away. “How did you find out about Soren being a dragon?” Isaac inquired, and Ike glared at him in silence. “You told Soren, didn’t you? Why won’t you tell me?” Isaac pestered, and Ike threatened to toss him through a window.

Soren wasn’t any easier, but Isaac gave up almost immediately. The first time Isaac had pushed him for an answer, the mage’s expression had been so pained that he’d instantly given it up. Of course, he thought, Soren would feel conflicted. He was absolutely loyal to Ike, and now one was telling him to keep a secret while the other was trying to pry it out of him. How could he choose who to follow? Isaac left him alone and doubled his efforts on Ike.

One of his plans involved pretending to sleep while Ike and Soren were still awake. He hoped that they would discuss it then, but so far, they hadn’t. Still, he kept at it every time the three of them ended up sleeping in the room together. He would come in late, kiss Soren goodnight, and flop into bed as if he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

Tonight, he thought that his patience was going to pay off. He hadn’t been lying there for half an hour before the middle of the bed dipped, and Soren settled in between him and Ike, who had come in a while ago. “That’s rare,” Ike commented in a soft voice. “I don’t have to make you come to bed?”

“No. I wanted to…”

“Hm?”

“… Never mind.” More shifting, Soren moving away from Isaac and probably into Ike's arms.

“Just wanted to cuddle?” Silence. Then, “Hm… You’ll get too hot if you wear all these clothes.”

“I- Ike!”

Isaac’s heartbeat picked up just a little. There was a rustling sound behind him, and something soft hit the floor. He imagined fabric crumpling at the side of the bed, pale skin in the thin beam of moonlight shining in between the drawn curtains.

“What about…?”

“He’s asleep. Besides, who cares if he’s here? He said he didn’t mind. You said you didn’t mind. What’s the problem?”

“I- we- are we…?”

“Soren… I told you, I won’t do anything until you’re ready. Just…”

“Ike…”

“Please. I need to touch you… Just let me touch. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to ask, Ike. I… I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Soren, I—”

“Because I want it, too.” A soft, slick sound, the sound of a gentle kiss. “I’ve been hoping that we could go a little farther.”

Isaac could feel his cheek burning against the pillow. Soren had wanted to do it, after all. And here he was trying to be noble about it.

“I don’t think Ik- Isaac wants to yet, but…” Soren hesitated. The weight shifted closer to Isaac, and it wasn’t hard to imagine Ike rolling atop the mage to pin him to the mattress. “Ike… Please…”

Soren’s voice was muffled then, a soft moan, a sigh as Ike kissed him. There was more shifting – the blankets were shoved aside, bunching up at Isaac’s back. He lay there with a mixture of arousal and fascination as there was the sound of clothing being pushed back, the snap of a clasp, the sliding of skin against skin. Again, Ike murmured, so softly that Isaac could hardly hear him, “Just wanna be close to you…”

“It’s alright. I’m here…”

“… I know you’re not the same. But it’s like… It’s like I’ve gone back in time.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Soren’s voice was resolute.

“No, you’re not.” More shifting, more gentle kisses. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Ah! Ike…!” Soren was trying and failing to keep himself quiet. Isaac’s heart hammered in his chest, and he swore that it was rocking him gently back and forth with the force. He worried that they would be able to hear.

Isaac was still determined to match his older self in strength and skill, but his desire to beat him had dwindled over the past few weeks. He felt no jealousy as he lay there, listening to the general working his lover into a frenzy. It was fascinating. It never occurred to him to try to stop them; he just listened and felt the bed moving beneath him, imagining what they looked like, what it felt like. He had no idea exactly what they were doing, but he could hazard a guess as Soren’s rough breathing became panting and then moaning.

“P- please… Ike… Let me…”

“No. Not yet. Just like this… Just let me watch you. Please, just let me…”

“Ike…! I- I can’t!”

“Shhh. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

“Ike!”

Isaac couldn’t stand it anymore. His dick was throbbing. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his hand between his legs and put pressure on the bulge in his trousers. He had never been so aroused in all his life. Knowing that one day, he would be able to reduce the unflappable strategist to this begging, mewling, wanton mess…

He finished almost instantly, hardly touching himself, and lay there sweaty and shaking as Soren’s desperation mounted and Ike’s pillow talk grew filthier and filthier.

“Please, please, please, please…!”

“If you keep begging like that, I’m going to fuck you.”

“Ike! Ahh, Ike!”

“Would you like that? Not just my finger, but my whole cock, filling you up…”

“Ike!”

“I’m gonna slowly get you used to it, get you warmed up for me, and then…”

Isaac cursed inwardly when he felt himself getting hard again.

“Please, Ike, please…!”

“Come for me, Soren. Let me see you come, OK?”

“Ahh, Ike! IKE!”

The younger wished with all his heart that he could see what was going on. He could only imagine Soren’s face when he reached climax like that. Another shift, like Ike was lying down next to Soren, like he was gathering him up in his arms. Soren was panting. He sounded dazed when he mumbled, “You’re… Ike, let me…”

“I’m fine. I just wanted to see you.”

“Please… You're still…”

“Shhh.” A soft kiss. “Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Now that was self-control, Isaac thought.

“Are you sure?”

“Next time.”

A low, soft rumble reached Isaac’s ears, felt through the pillow more than heard. He smiled despite himself; that was Soren’s purr. Isaac had only heard it a few times, and tonight it was louder than ever. If he could get Soren to purr like that, he thought, he would know that he had mastered the lover’s touch. Mentally, he put that near the top of his list of goals, right below beating his father in combat and beating himself in combat (killing the Black Knight had to be nixed, due mostly to the fact that they were now allies - like he'd said before, strange world).

“Press below his ear.”

Isaac’s eyes snapped open. He hadn’t realized that he’d begun to drift off, but the vibrations had lulled him. Now, he heard that all was quiet. Ike spoke again.

“To get him to do that. Press below his ear, just behind it.”

“… You knew I was awake.” Isaac groaned.

“Pretty hard to miss you jerking off over there.”

“S- sorry.”

“I don’t care. I think Soren would’ve been a little embarrassed, though. It’s good that you kept it quiet.”

The younger turned over and saw that Ike had Soren still in his arms. Soren was relaxed, covered but for a bare shoulder peeking out like a pale shadow in the darkness. “Is he asleep?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah. He sleeps like a log after sex.” Ike stroked his fingers through Soren’s unbound hair. His expression was unreadable in the dark, but he sounded amused. “He can go for a really long time, but once it’s over, it’s over.”

“You don’t need to, uh…?”

“No. It’ll go down.” Now Isaac could hear the smile in Ike’s voice. “Remember when Mist caught me behind the stables?”

“Heh. I could have killed her for that.” Isaac stifled a chuckle at the memory. “Running around, yelling ‘Ike’s playing with himself!’…”

“Probably the most embarrassing moment of my life,” Ike said.

Isaac thought of Tibarn. “Not mine.” He shuddered. “Not anymore.”

They fell silent again, only Soren’s faint snores breaking the stillness. Isaac had the urge to ask again, but he didn’t want to ruin Ike’s contentment. But he didn’t have to. Ike spoke first. “I missed this. A lot…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ike’s hold tightened around Soren, causing the mage to mumble sleepily.

“How long had it been, really?” Isaac asked, pushing his luck. “Longer than the time you’ve been here?”

There was a heavy sigh. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because it concerns me and Soren. I want to know what I have to look out for.”

“Why? You’re here, now.” Ike rolled onto his side, tucking Soren into his chest, his eyes gleaming in the faint light coming in between the closed curtains. Isaac could just barely make out the furrow of his brow. “What’s the point of knowing about a future that won’t happen?”

“I…” Isaac frowned, too. “What do you mean? I’ll go back to my own world someday. I want to know what happens.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Ike shook his head. “Even knowing some of the things that happen, you still want to go back. I’m not really surprised, now that I think about it.”

“Are you never going back to your time, then?”

Silence, heavy and uncomfortable. Then, Ike said, “There’s nothing for me there. I have no reason to go back.”

“Did that second war really change me that much?” Isaac sat up then. “There’s always something to live for. There’s always hope. Did you forget that?”

“The one I lived for is gone.”

Isaac’s indignation, his irritation at his older self’s lack of belief in the future, withered. He felt cold, suddenly. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think?” Ike was glaring at him now. His arms encircled Soren like a protective cage. “I never thought that I would see him again. After the battle with Sephiran…”

“Sephiran?”

“… I had no reason to keep going. But I couldn’t just give up. So, I left.” Ike buried his face in black hair, breathing evenly to keep himself grounded in the present. “I buried him. Then I left. I don’t even know what I was looking for, but now… I’m here.” He took a long, steady breath. “He’s here. We’re together again. I don’t care that he’s different. It’s like I just went back in time, before it happened, and now he’s…”

Isaac couldn’t form words. He stuttered for a moment. “I didn’t… You mean, he… Did he… Did Soren die?” Ike didn’t answer, which was all the answer Isaac needed. “I see… That’s why.”

“I guess I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I didn’t want you to know… for your own sake.”

“I get it.” And truly, a part of him wished that he didn’t know. It felt as if there was a weight on his heart, crushing it, making every beat painful. Just imagining that kind of loss was difficult now, but he couldn’t fathom how much worse it would be after three years of being together.

“I’m never going back,” Ike said after a long moment. “This is my second chance, and I’m gonna take it.”

“I understand,” Isaac said. “I think… I’d probably do the same.”

Isaac lay back down, but sleep eluded him. He was fairly sure that it was the same for Ike. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind and his heart racing. Sleep only came on gradually, over the swirl of troubled thoughts, as the moon sank over the mountains and plunged the little room into total darkness.

>>><<<

“Isaac, I need advice.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow as Roy looked up at him hopefully. “Sure. On what?”

The younger boy glanced around. “Could we talk somewhere private?”

“OK.” He was going on patrol in a while, but he had some time yet. He diverted his course from the training grounds to follow Roy through the bustling main hall. The two found a quiet little sitting room, and went inside, making sure to close the door.

“You know the Day of Devotion is coming up,” Roy said.

“Yeah...” Isaac said warily. For a moment, he feared that Roy was going to turn the tables and start telling him how to put the moves on Soren. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

Instead, Roy said, “I need advice on romance. What should I do for Lilina?”

Isaac blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Can you give me any tips?”

“What makes you think I would know?”

Roy gave him a withering look. “Come on, you’ve been with Soren for a while now. I heard you two last night, even, when I was passing by on patrol.”

Isaac balked. “Y- you heard?”

“Yeah, it sounds like you got plenty of advice from everyone already,” Roy said. “I don’t want to know about any of that, but, uh, I would appreciate some tips on what to do for the festival. You have plans, too, right?”

The commander groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “First off, that wasn’t me. That was the other me, last night.”

Roy’s face went red. “Oh…”

“Second, I’m not really the person to ask. I haven’t given the festival any thought at all. I don’t even have anything planned.” He paused, suddenly worried. “Should I?”

“Well, it is the most romantic day of the year,” Roy said. “As Lilina keeps reminding me… I think she expects me to come up with something really spectacular, and I just don’t know what to do.” He kicked at the red carpet beneath them.

“Look, I wish I could help, but…” Isaac looked out the window, which opened onto the garden. “Hey, you know, I bet she’d love some flowers.”

“That’s what I thought, but everyone’s gonna be giving flowers,” Roy said. “I need something unique.”

“Then why ask me? You should come up with something on your own.”

“I thought we could bounce ideas off of each other,” Roy said sheepishly. “Well, I guess I can ask my father…”

Isaac considered the matter for a moment. “Yeah, that would work.” Roy left then, and Isaac remained, staring out at the colorful flowers blooming across the garden.

Something special for the Day of Devotion… He sighed. He had absolutely no idea what to do, but it hardly seemed important compared to what he had learned last night. His thoughts were jumbled, confused. Soren was dead in Ike’s time, and Ike was never going back to Tellius; Soren was ready for sex, and Isaac was dragging his feet for nothing; the Day of Devotion was coming up, so what would the three of them end up doing?

It was too complicated, he thought. Just far too complicated. 


End file.
